Beautiful
by Melanie Geller
Summary: Some will go to great lengths to make their body fit the mold. But what ever happens to their souls? MC Slightly AU, Read & Review! Chapter 11 Update (NEW!
1. In remembrance of the little girl

_**Hello, everyone! Thanks to all who are reviewing Let Me Let Go, and to those who are (still!) reviewing Love at First Sight. You guys rock!!!!  
  
Now, on to business here. Yes, this is another fic I'm starting. No, I don't need this right now. Yes, I needed to write it. No, I am not going through any of the experiences I put Monica (and others) through in this fic. (Thank God).   
  
I think this will be a teen fic. Actually, I'm positive it will be, as you will soon see that some of the events relate to them when they are teens. ;) Also, I may be dealing with some weighty (no pun intended...seriously ;)) issues here, so let's all make sure we're comfortable with the storyline. You'll soon see...  
  
This is also the prologue. If I get enough reviews letting me know to continue, then I will. If not, well, we'll forget about this fic just like we have some others. ;) Also, this is actually a bit like another fic I wrote eons ago: Second Best, except it's MUCH more angsty and serious. And Second Best sucked, which I'm hoping this one won't. ;) So, therefore, I plan to delete Second Best...soon. I don't like writing in script form, when there's so much you can do with words! :)  
  
So, let's get on to the fic, shall we? The prologue takes place AFTER most of the story, but several VERY important events will occur AFTER the prologue. Actually, therein lies the climax of the fic. ;)   
  
I hope to be able to update this as best I can. Any of you who know me know that I am a busy person, but writing is awesome, and I love to do it when I can. But since summer is coming up (OMG, I'm gonna be a SOPHMORE!...how scary is that?) I will have more time to write. Especially since I wasn't accepted in summer school when I need another P.E. credit to eventually graduate high school. (Screw those bastards who wouldn't let me in Advanced Strength training!:))   
  
Ok, now I'm rambling, and to any of you who are still reading this, let me tell you that you're extremely cool people! :) (Guess who's really bored w/o Friends-Boards?!?!)  
  
Alright...read this...lol...  
**_  
It frightens her when the little girl cries.  
  
For hours on end, she sobs. Unable to hold in her suppressed pain any longer, she pours her little heart out.  
  
Her cries make it sound as if she were dying. The sheer sound of her screams shoulder pain equal to the impact of tender flesh being torn from a body, and then having the remnants of the soul being bathed in the likes of sour acid.  
  
Except, when she heard the little girl scream, Monica Geller was consumed with immense feelings of guilt and betrayal that were heavier than the weight of the world.  
  
Why? Because it was she that did this to the young girl.  
  
Monica lay back on the bed in the room of shadows. The room wasn't hers, and neither were the shadows.  
  
But the demons were. She couldn't close her eyes without confronting them. They came to her in bags of various sorts, and always the bags would open...releasing her relentless enemy.  
  
Food.  
  
Sandwiches and ice cream bars...carrots and potato chips. The type didn't matter, but their message did. And it was always the same.  
  
"Feed the little girl," they would chant. "She's dying..."  
  
Come rain or sunshine, the demons of the dreams always bore the unchanged message.  
  
Monica would wake to find herself in cold sweats.  
  
She wanted so much...  
  
She wanted him to love her then...she wanted him to love her now...  
  
But who could love someone twice their size? And who could love a monster with a frail body and gaunt, sunken cheeks? A monster that was starving a little girl...  
  
So she formulated a plan. A plan so immaculate and so perfect that it could almost fool her toughest critic.  
  
_Herself.  
_  
She thought that she had passed the test, but apparently class was still in session. And now more than just love was at stake.  
  
_Her life was.  
_  
Monica rolled over on the creaky bed and wondered why she had put herself, and the little girl inside her, through so much pain. In her heart, she knew the answer. But the little girl didn't know.  
  
Shaking, she lifted her barely recognizable hand to her face and wiped away a tear that was slinking slowly down her small slope of cheek.  
  
She wished she could tell the little girl that she was sorry, but it was too late.  
  
When her spirit broke free from her own personal Hell, Monica realized the sad truth in it all.   
  
The little girl had died long ago.

**_Like it? Love it? Hate it? Confused? No thoughts? Okay, leave then. ;) No, I'm only kidding! Let me know what ya'll thought about that. Should I continue? This WILL be M/C...just to let you know. I don't know why I'm writing them so much now. First in Let Me Let Go, and now in this...hmm...  
  
Oh, and for those of you who may be confused about the "little girl", she's not pregnant, but I'm referring to the little girl that is inside her...her spirit. :) Yeah, she killed it. But will she ever get it back? Who knows...I don't...  
  
And, yes, this fic deals with anorexia. Just for anyone who's still confused. (Hey, I've been there. I didn't know what AU stood for for the longest time.)  
  
Next chapter, I promise more dialogue and stuff...it'll probably be longer, too. And, this will be slightly AU in some parts...I think. I haven't made up my mind quite yet.   
  
I have finals next week, so wish me luck, and don't be alarmed if I don't update in a while because I'm going on vacation. But I WILL write, don't worry. I have a nineteen hour bus ride coming my way. Splendid. ;)  
  
I realize that my A/N are kinda long here...but bear with me, I'm bored and grounded. To any of my F-B buddies, I miss you guys! :(   
  
Ok, I'm leaving...lol...please review, whether good, bad, or just your name and a smilie face. :)  
  
Mel _**


	2. Fading Fast

**Wow! I guess that got some good response, huh? ;) I REALLY appreciate all the reviews...every single one of them. nods  
  
So...I guess we'll continue! This chapter is kind of short, but I think I'm going to do the shorter, more frequent updates now. At least, that's what all the people who reviewed Let Me Let Go said. (Oh, and I DID update that, whoever asked me to update it. ;) I just want to make sure you saw that. I know sometimes you don't see that an update is new, or whatever, but it was updated Saturday.) And I promise, more dialogue coming up. I have to set up the premise here.   
  
Whoever said it would be tough for them to read this, I completely understand. I only hope I can write this tastefully and realistically. SO many people struggle with weight problems and starve themselves, and they need to know that they're not alone. It's terrible, and no one should ever feel the need to hurt their bodies to improve their mindset. In my opinion, at least.  
  
Was anyone else bothered by how quickly Monica seemingly lost ALL of that weight in one year? I mean, it had to be over two-hundred pounds. I always was suspicious of how she "did that". I know, I know, it's only a TV show, but still. I always thought she must have been anorexic or bulimic or something. NO ONE can lose that much weight in so little a time. (Well, except Jared. Y'know, the Subway guy?) Anyways...she's gonna have tougher of a time here.  
  
OMG...all these sophomores! Go us! :)  
  
Onward...  
**  
_Dear Diary,  
  
I feel fat today.  
  
Not my usual fat, but more than that. Heavier. As if the burden I carry in pounds is as heavy as the burden my heart bears. It almost is.  
  
But not quite.  
  
Do you ever get the feeling that you are just so unwanted? That the only people who love you are your family? And that's only because they have to?  
  
What am I talking about...you're just a book. You wouldn't understand.  
  
It's not like anyone else does.  
  
I know everyone has their problems. After all, they're only human.  
  
I hardly even feel like a human with all this damn blubber hanging off my bones...  
  
My life sucks. Really, it does. I got to school, and people laugh at me. It's like they can't tell that I am a person, too...Some days I feel like screaming. Some days I feel like dying. But I don't let that show...No, people expect me to be the "jolly fat one."  
  
My only real friend at school is Rachel. And sometimes I get the feeling that she's only my friend because I've known her since I was like, six.  
  
I know my parents love me...but I know that they love Ross more. It's so obvious. I mean, who would want an average, fat daughter?  
  
I've never been on a real date. I know, it's pathetic. But I have no one else to tell it to. All of my "sexual experiences" consist of Rachel's stories. Now, she has a life.  
  
The part of these weight issues that makes me angriest is that it's all my fault. It's not like someone shoved food down my throat.  
  
But I did.  
  
Today is Thanksgiving. The day for eating...great. I used to look forward to this day. Finally, a day when everyone's plates were as full as mine, and everyone felt like I did every single day.  
  
Fat.  
  
But today, Ross is bringing his friend, Chandler. I don't know why I'm nervous to meet him...but then again, I get nervous whenever I have to meet someone Ross knows first. They expect me to live up to his standards.  
  
It's such a disappointment to them when I don't.  
  
I have to go now. Rachel's coming over to eat. Even though she doesn't talk to me that much in school, I know she'll always be there for me. This year is my last year in high school, thank God, and she's been there for me this whole time. She better not go anywhere.  
  
She's the only one I have left.  
  
Now, I really have to go. Mom's yelling at me to get myself downstairs. It's nearly time to eat.  
  
Wish me luck tonight...  
  
Monica  
_  
Monica eased herself off her bed and looked around her room.  
  
The pink walls screamed out at her as she headed slowly towards the door. She thought her room looked like a young child's room, with its lacy curtains and bunny rabbit stuffed animals.  
  
The only thing more grown-up in her room was the sleek, polished floor-length mirror. It gleamed from being shined everyday. The mirror was perfect.  
  
But Monica wasn't.  
  
She grimaced as she caught an unsatisfying glimpse of herself.  
  
Poofy hair done up in curls, and a face whose natural beauty was hidden by coats of make-up that were applied to hide what lay beneath.  
  
She tried to hide herself.  
  
As Monica bounded down the steps and listened to the creaky stairs heave beneath her weight, she felt disappointment rise inside her chest.  
  
She was hungry.  
  
----  
  
Chandler Bing turned his head towards the sky and snarled at the impending clouds. Any second now, he knew the clouds would give in to the pressure the rain forced upon them.   
  
Tedious at first, and gradually more painful in the pounding, the rain started as a dull roar, and worked its way into becoming a full fledged storm.  
  
Chandler hated the rain. Chandler hated Thanksgiving.  
  
_Hell_, Chandler hated life itself.  
  
As he stepped out of his college roommate Ross's car, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy pinch his heart.  
  
Ross had it all. A nice family, good grades, an unbroken home...  
  
_'And here I am...eating Thanksgiving at some stranger's house.'  
  
_He grimly walked towards the door, all the while following Ross. That's what everyone did.  
  
Inside, he could hear voices excitedly chattering. Why were people so _happy_?  
  
_'Thanksgiving's a pointless holiday. Don't we eat enough already? And to think...we actually have to celebrate it!'_  
  
Chandler brushed himself off of the rain just as the door swung open.   
  
The rain was pouring now, sloshing along the streets as if it had a place to go.  
  
Even the rain was sure of itself, just like everyone else seems to be. Chandler braced himself, and got ready to turn on the humor, and hide the spirit of the little boy who only wanted to be love...who only wanted a place to call home...who only wanted to be himself again...  
  
After finding himself jailed for all these years, the little boy was becoming afraid.  
  
He was fading fast.  
  
----  
  
No one knows who I am  
  
Inside my so-called heart.  
  
They laugh and stare, sometimes glare  
  
At times, I don't know why I even bother to play the part.  
  
It scares me how little they know  
  
About who they think is me  
  
Someone needs to tell them, please show them how  
  
To see past my insecurity  
  
I laugh, I cry, believe it or not  
  
I have feelings, too.  
  
You make fun of me for being different  
  
And the only one who thinks I'm that different  
  
Is You.  
  
----  
  
**Ahhh...so I wrote the poem...the idea's mine, etc. Forgot to put in a disclaimer. :) It's raining SO hard now, so I have to go. Please leave me a review! :) I've had some trouble uploading this...I tried to catch all the mistakes...hope it worked...  
  
Mel**


	3. The Fat Sister

**Hello everyone! Thanks for the reviews, and sorry for the delayed update. :) This chapter is quite a bit longer, so hopefully it will be good. **

**This chapter was by far the hardest for me to write. I borrowed some dialogue from TOW The Worst Thanksgivings, as you will soon see. :) If you haven't done it before, let me tell you that using an actual episode to base a fic off if hard! You just never know how to do it, but I think I did pretty well. Or at least the best I can with it. **

**Please leave me a review for this chapter! It seems whenever I write a third chapter, it always seems to get the least number of reviews compared to other chapters. I don't know why, maybe they're not as good. Please help me break my third chapter curse! :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the idea, lol...**

****

****

_Their house was nice_, Chandler mentally noted. Nothing about it screamed money or wealth, yet it was homey and looked as if someone lived there.  
  
Chandler grew up in a house with an abundant amount of money at his fingertips. His parents, Nora and Charles, loved him dearly, but clearly had their priorities.   
  
His childhood bedroom was filled with many toys. In fact, Chandler even had a playhouse, complete with five rooms and electricity! His parents affection for him was genuine, but not as obvious as it could have been.  
  
Because he spent his entire life getting everything he wanted but nothing he needed, Chandler sometimes felt like he had to shield his true emotions with a harsh outer core of sarcasm and bitter humor. He would tell the stinging truth to your face, and then some.   
  
A part of him knew it was wrong, but he let the remarks fly...sometimes he had nothing better to say in uncomfortable situations, and such a case would present itself later that very evening.  
  
In the meantime, he found himself standing on the stoop of Ross's house. While Ross greeted his parents joyfully, Chandler found himself wanting to scream.   
  
_'Why did I agree to come here_?' he thought. _'Oh right, you idiot_. _You didn't want to be the_ _only one left in the dorm...Come to think of it, I could have used a little alone time. But, no...You just had to come here. These people will probably hate you, as a matter of fact. Just don't talk to much and maybe they'll forget about you. Maybe if you don't talk to much, you'll forget about yourself...'_  
  
Chandler sighed heavily and found himself shaking Judy Geller's hand.   
  
"It's so nice to meet you, Chandler. And I hope you're hungry, we've got plenty of food!" she exclaimed.  
  
Chandler began to feel guilty already. _'This was a bad idea._' "Well actually-"  
  
"Chandler hates Thanksgiving and doesn't eat any Thanksgiving food, Mom," Ross finished, rather blatantly, for him.  
  
Judy Geller rolled her eyes. "Well, great. I'm so glad you brought him here, then." She turned on her heel, and beckoned to her husband, Jack Geller, to follow. He gave Chandler a small nod, turned, and rolled his eyes at his Flock-of-Seagulls haircut.  
  
_'Okay, Ross, when are you going to introduce me? Come on, I'm your sister!_' Monica silently tried to send Ross a message with her eyes, but her attempts dismally failed in vain. Rachel nudged her in the side just as Monica cleared her throat.  
  
"Ross!" Monica blushed at how she knew her voice must sound.  
  
Ross wildly looked around, wondering what she wanted.  
  
"Aren't you going to introduce us?" Monica wondered, pointing to herself and Rachel.  
  
"Oh, right. Chandler, this is Monica, my little sister." Chandler felt his eyebrows raise as he noticed how "little" Ross's sister was. "...and this is her best friend, Rachel Green." This time, it was Ross who raised his eyebrows.   
  
For the longest time, Ross had been madly in love with Rachel. Some called it a crush, others knew the depth of it. He was virtually obsessed with her, and there was nothing that she could say or do to defer his opinion.   
  
"Oh, it's nice to meet you," Chandler extended his hand.  
  
_'What a gentleman_,' Monica thought. _'I've never seen a guy actually want to shake hands with me! Wow...what can I do for him?'_  
  
Suddenly, it dawned on her. "Um, Chandler, if you want I can make you some macaroni and cheese for dinner."  
  
He locked eyes with her for a moment and wondered why she seemed so eager to please him-or anyone for that matter. "Well, as long as the pilgrims didn't eat it, I'm in."  
  
Bubbles in her stomach rose from the Coke she'd been drinking, and she found herself giggling hysterically. _'Ugh...now is NOT the time to act like a stupid giggly girl!'_ She felt the stinging liquids burn through her nose, ready to humiliate her and spray the world.  
  
"Damnit!" She ran into the kitchen, face burning red. But now she had a task, a reason to be happier. One of Ross's friends had been polite to her (_shook her hand!),_ and now he wanted her to cook for him.   
  
Sadly, this gave her the strongest feeling of purpose and self-worth that she had achieved in the longest time...  
  
----  
  
_'Damn nose. Y'know, this nose makes you look like an elephant. Or worse, a ferret!_' Rachel silently criticized her one flawed feature as she examined herself in her compact mirror. When it came to her looks, Rachel was very persnickety.  
  
Through the mirror, Rachel could see Ross staring at her. _'Could he be any more obvious?_' she wondered. _'Why doesn't he just come up to me and beg for a date at my feet? Then, I might give him a chance. But if he just keeps staring at me like that, ugh...It's so creepy!'  
_  
Suddenly, Rachel felt Ross approach her from behind.   
  
_'Just breathe, Ross. You'll be fine.'_ "So uh, Rach? Does it feel weird around here now? Y'know, since I've been away at college?" There. He had done it. For months, he had wondered how she fared without his looming presence. The question burned a hole in the back of his mind, and her answer left a tarnished scar.   
  
Rachel snapped out of her self loathing stage and turned back into the bright personality everyone loved. "Oh! No, not really."  
  
She turned on her heel and waltzed away, crunching the shattered pieces of Ross's decimated heart as she went.  
  
Chandler slowly whistled through his teeth. "So that's Rachel, huh? The one girl you've been writing all those songs about? You might want to re-think the lyrics of 'She Feels Weird Since I've Been Gone.'"  
  
As the words flew from his down turned lips, he knew it was wrong...yet he couldn't fight the need to be sarcastic. He was Chandler Bing, and he told the bitter truth.   
  
The child fading inside his heart was deprived of a childhood, deprived of love, and forced to be someone that wasn't himself.  
  
Forced to live a life void of emotion.  
  
----  
  
"Come on...I know it's in here somewhere..."  
  
Monica dug furiously through the kitchen cabinets, feeling her eyes sting as the dust flew and bit the tender covering of her eye.  
  
"Aha!" she whispered triumphantly as she yanked a dust powdered package of Kraft macaroni and cheese.  
  
As she boiled water, she realized that maybe this day wasn't going to be as bad as she thought it would be. Sure, Rachel wasn't having a good day, what with her boyfriend dumping her and all, yet Monica herself was doing just fine.   
  
Once she finished her delicious concoction, Monica carried the steaming plate of macaroni to Chandler, who was sitting on the couch.   
  
Smiling broadly, she handed the plate for him and waited for him to take his first bite.  
  
_'Oh my God...look how big she's smiling. I asked her to make dinner, that's all. You'd think this was the best day of her life!_'   
  
Nonetheless, as he brought the spoon drenched in macaroni to his lips, he found himself smile. It was quite good.  
  
She bounced eagerly on the couch, sending Chandler up into the air slightly. He laughed. She was cute, like a little child, he thought. And for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to think of another remark that wouldn't show his true feelings.  
  
The small boy inside him felt a wind of fresh air awaken him as the cool scent of a morning breeze was brought to his eyes. It was his turn to live.  
  
"So, how do you like it?" Monica asked.  
  
"It was great," Chandler responded. "You should be a chef!"  
  
_'Oh my God. He liked it!'_ Not used to being praised like that, Monica was overwhelmed. '_This means he must like me!_' "Okay!"  
  
Chandler raised his eyebrows again at her childishness, and felt the little boy try to rise inside him again. This time, however, the child was banished to darkness as Chandler rose from the couch, leaving Monica in glory.  
  
As Rachel approached, and ranted to her about how Chip was going to be with her that night after all, all Monica could think of was Chandler. She had had crushes before, but none of them had liked her back. None of them had even liked her as a person.  
  
With Chandler, she thought it was different.  
  
Here she had a guy who actually talked to her for a minute, touched her hand, and told her how much he loved her food. Monica was unaware this was just common courtesy, and took it to mean Chandler liked her, too.  
  
Her dreams, once again, were about to be shattered.  
  
----  
  
As Monica traipsed towards the kitchen, she noticed how beautifully the light flooded down upon Chandler's hair. Illuminated by the golden rays, each strand seemed to sparkle. His eyes were blue...so blue, she thought. And the way he smiled made her soul melt and fly as the corners of his mouth crinkled towards his nose.  
  
She sighed as she realized that she was falling fast for him, and something like this had never happened before to her. It had been a long time since a guy talked to her like a normal person...a skinny person.  
  
A feeling of guilt crept upon her as she felt her stomach rumble. She briefly thought of finishing off two pies she had seen on the dining room table, but then thought better of it. She'd get them when Chandler left.  
  
For now, she was ready to talk. Ready to be charming and funny. And, oh God, did she ever think he was funny! She flushed crimson as she recalled his many jokes tonight.   
  
Something about him was sad, she sensed. He was a little harsh sometimes, but that was fine. _'We both have a bit of the same sense of humor. Sometimes, it seems like he hates his life...which is good, cause I can totally relate!'  
_  
She stopped in her tracks as she eavesdropped a little, hearing the mention of Rachel's name.  
  
"So I'm thinking about asking Rachel out tonight. Y'know maybe play her that song we wrote last week," Ross began as he scrubbed the turkey-stained plate clean.  
  
"Emotional Knapsack?" Chandler asked as Monica smiled upon hearing his voice.  
  
"Right on! Oh! Uh, but, don't take to long okay? 'Cause uh, we're gonna test out our fake ID's tonight, right Clifford Alverez."  
  
Fake ID's! Monica shook her head. Ross got to have all the fun...  
  
"Listen, Roland Chang, if things go well, I'm gonna be out with her all night."  
  
_'Poor Ross,_' Monica grimaced. She knew for sure that Ross's fantasy would not be played out.  
  
"Dude, don't do that too me!"   
  
Monica could totally understand Chandler's viewpoint. She knew she wouldn't appreciate being left out. _'We are SO much alike!_' She thought giddily.  
  
With his next words, Ross made Monica so grateful that she was willing to give up anything in order for it to happen. "All right, it's cool you can stay here. My parents won't mind."  
  
They would have so much fun together. Even though Ross wouldn't go out with Rachel because Monica knew for sure that Rachel would be completely appalled, the mere anticipatory idea of it excited her.  
  
"No, it's not that, I just don't want to be stuck here all night with your fat sister."  
  
Monica felt as if she had been punched in the gut.  
  
Fat sister? FAT SISTER? So that's what he thought of her. She wasn't a person, she didn't have feelings. They weren't as alike as she first thought them to be.  
  
Monica bit her lower lip to keep the tears from spilling as she abruptly turned on her heel and fled the room.  
  
Her heart wrenched with guilt as her mother held out two pies for her to take.   
  
"Monica, why don't you finish off these pies? I don't have any more room left in the fridge."  
  
And to think that she had plans to eat them later..."No! No thank you!"  
  
Jack Geller was extraordinarily surprised. He loved his daughter dearly, and thought she was adorable. But never before had she turned down a pie. "Well, Judy you did it. She's finally full!"  
  
The words angrily ripped at her heart like a cold winter wind. Snow fell in torrents, coming to their unsettling rest upon her once-warm soul.   
  
She ran as quickly as her body would let her up to her bedroom and grabbed her diary.   
  
_Dear Diary,  
  
I think tonight will be the night my life changes. From now on, I will count every piece of food that brushes my lips. If it's too much, I won't eat. I don't care what anyone says or does. I will NOT live my life being known as the "FAT SISTER!"   
  
The words hurt...and I don't think they even are aware of how much they do hurt me. But I'm changing the way I do things, Diary. From now on, I won't be known as "the Fat Sister"...  
  
I'll show them.  
  
Monica_  
  
She angrily set the pen down as she flipped off the light switch and prepared for bed.  
  
Only did she let the tears seep freely when the darkness filled the room and the pain filled her soul...

**I hope I didn't make Monica too obsessed with Chandler, but I just thought it would work because he was probably the first guy that actually talked to her like a real person. (Well, he is in my fic!) **

**If it seems like I'm making Monica very vunerable, it's because I am. :) I think that she's at that age where she feels very unwanted and undesirable and so on...A lot of it will come full circle.**

**If anyone has any questions, don't hesitate. When I write the next chapter, I will post it ASAP. **

**Please leave me a review...it's been harder for me to write lately because I've been feeling like a bad writer who shouldn't even post fics cause they're "unworthy" or whatever, compared to some other people, and that's quite discouraging. **

**Okay, before I start sounding all depressed and stuff, I'll go. :) LOL...Okay, thanks!**

**Mel**


	4. Christmas like a Heartache

_**Guess what? It's Christmas! In...July. LOL, okay. At least in this fic, it's Christmas. Thanks a bunch for the reviews I've gotten from this. **_

_**I've been really busy, and I appreciate all your patientce. :) (I sound like a phone operator! lol)**_

**_I just have a question. Was the last chapter of Love at First Sight that bad lol? Cause I only got like three reviews...maybe it's cause it was storming and we had a tornado and cause I didn't get to leave one of my charming author's notes. :)_**

**_Silence._**

**_Okay, I'll take that as a no, lol...oh well, you win some, you lose some, huh? _**

_**Lemme know if this is a winner. :)**_

_December 24th...  
  
Dear Diary,   
  
Merry Christmas...again. This day marks the one year anniversary of our relationship.   
  
Sorry I haven't written in so long; I've been really busy. I think the last time I wrote in you- really wrote in you- was Thanksgiving. God, what an awful day.  
  
But actually, it was a good day in a way. Even if that arrogant jerk Chandler (God WHY do I still like him?!) called me fat...well, somehow it taught me something.  
  
I AM fat. Anyone with eyes can see that. But to tell it to my FACE? Well...kind of. God, talk about sinking to the lowest pillar of humanity! He should be thrown in a pit with writhing snakes and be made to sit there for a day...  
  
But, if it weren't for him, then the most wonderful thing wouldn't have happened to me.  
  
He made me see that something had to be done. I DON'T want to be known as the fat one...I want to BE somebody.  
  
Damnit, I want to be known for more than just how much I weigh or how many blueberry pies I can eat in one sitting!  
  
Ever since then, I've been dieting. Nothing major...just cutting back on, well, a lot. I don't eat much meat anymore. We learned in health class that meat accounts for a lot of fat. One of these days I'll try to stop eating sugar...but I don't know if I can. It's so addictive. But I WILL get thinner, no matter what anyone says. If people start to notice, I'll tell them I began to work out. It'll happen for me, I know it will.  
  
I don't really want anyone to know, because I don't want people to think I cared that much. 20 lbs. is really all I want to lose...I'll still be fat, just not grotesquely so. I'm whale blubber now...I just want to be normal.   
  
So far, I've lost almost seven pounds! I'm not really starving myself or anything, God no. I'm just not eating. So, you see, Diary, it's not that bad. I won't end up like one of those stick figure models...that's not me. I just want people to see beyond what I am now.   
  
You can't really tell I lost any weight yet, but I know it in my heart. And that's all that really matters...for now.   
  
So, I've come to this conclusion: I'll lose some weight, and the next time I see that Chandler Bing (or anyone else for that matter) I'll show him...I'm more than he thinks I am. Who's the fat sister now?  
  
Chandler Bing is a total jackass...with hauntingly blue eyes.  
  
Love,  
  
Monica  
_  
My God, he _did _have hauntingly blue eyes, she thought. Eyes of...of fiery blue icicles. Oxymoron or not, it did fit him.  
  
Skimming her pink comforter splashed with roses, Monica grasped a box of Ritz crackers, feeling quite content with the world.  
  
Plunging her hand into the crumb filled depths of the stout red box, she frowned. "I just brought these up! There's no way I could've eaten them all this soon! Shit, I'm supposed to be on a diet. I can't go around stuffing my face full of crackers!"  
  
She tossed the box down, and it hit the scratchy carpeting with a muted thud.   
  
The aroma of turkey juices drifted into her room, making Monica's mouth water with desire. "No, you can't have any!" she firmly told herself. "No meat is allowed!"  
  
Her new "diet" was about to take a turn that would have rivaled that of the Nazi regime.  
  
----  
  
_"We wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, and a happy New Ye-"  
_  
Groaning, Chandler flipped off the TV set, not wanting to hear more songs about love and cheer.  
  
Songs like those were so far off from what he considered reality that he preferred not to dwell on what could have been.  
  
"If I have to hear another Christmas carol, or see another escaped convict running a Santa booth at the mall-"  
  
He was interrupted by his mother, who was clad in a rather inappropriate looking Mrs. Claus suit.  
  
_"Mom_?" his jaw dropped in disgust.  
  
"Yes, Darling?" Nora crooned to her son, not realizing his reaction.  
  
"What the...what are...why?"  
  
"Sweetie, I didn't catch a word of that. But, I do need your help with something." She pranced over to Chandler, the bells on the bottom of her fishnet stockings jingling as she came. "I couldn't quite zip up my dress, could you help me?" She twirled around.  
  
"Yes, Mom," Chandler shook his head. "Where are you going?"  
  
"Oh, just this party. You know, with people."  
  
"Yeah, I kind of figured..." His mother was brilliant at stating the obvious.  
  
"So, I take it you're not going to be spending Christmas Eve here?"  
  
Nora felt her face flush; her son was home from college and they were supposed to spend Christmas together.   
  
"Sweetie...I'm so sorry. Things like this just come up, and well, I need the publicity. It's been almost a year since I published a novel, and if I don't get out there, then my career is as good as gone." In an elegant gesture, she waved her hand around their lavish living room. "And I know we'd miss this life if it was gone, now wouldn't we? I hope you'll understand."  
  
"Yeah. It's not like I was looking forward to it or anything." His heart sunk.  
  
"Good," she commented, suddenly brisk. "Well, I'll be home later, probably past midnight. I'm sure there'll be something delicious in the fridge if you look around. Maybe the cook will have prepared a turkey."   
  
With the swish of her red dress, she was gone.  
  
Maybe if she'd been around, Nora would've known that Chandler despised turkey.   
  
Maybe if she'd been around, Nora would've known that Chandler spent all day cooking a meal for them- macaroni and cheese with cut up hot dogs.   
  
Maybe if she'd been around, Nora would've seen the hurt in her son's eyes when she left him alone.  
  
Maybe she'd been there before, but Chandler would never know.  
  
----  
  
"Monica, why don't you have some more turkey?" asked Judy Geller as they all sat down to a Christmas feast.  
  
This was it, the first questions began. "Well, I just ate a bunch of snacks up in my...my room. And I just think I'd be full if I put more on my plate."  
  
There. It hadn't been smooth, and it hadn't been completely true, but it worked.  
  
"Sweetie, you should have saved up and not eaten all day for this meal!" Jack Geller joked. "It's delicious!"  
  
_'Hmmm...not eating all day. That wasn't a bad idea',_ thought Monica._ 'Maybe I should listen to my dad more often.'  
_  
However interested she was in Monica's eating habits, Judy turned her attention towards her pride and joy. "So, Ross, how's school?"  
  
"It's going great! I've got straight A's...you know, the usual."  
  
"Yes, we do son," beamed Jack as Ross spooned a small mountain of mashed potatoes onto his plate.   
  
Watching him pour a river of gravy across the mountain, Monica got a sudden craving. Ross noticed her eyeing his plate. "Mon, do you want some of these? You hardly have anything on your plate. That must have been some snack you had earlier," he chided.  
  
"No, I'm fine." _'Yeah, right. The day I'm fine is the day the world spins backwards.'  
_  
Silence proceeded their talking for several minutes. It wasn't until desert that the phone's shrill ringing interrupted their dinner.  
  
"I'll get it," mumbled Monica, who eased out of her chair and picked up the phone, twirling the cord around her pinky finger.  
  
"Hello?" came the voice from the other line. Whoever it was, wasn't in the Christmas spirit. _'Perfect,'_ she thought.  
  
"Hello, Geller residence, who is this?"  
  
"Uh...Chandler Bing."  
  
It was him. _He_, who's cruel words made her change her life. _He,_ who she had looked up to for a whole night as the first guy who ever talked to her for more than a minute._ He_, who was...Still waiting for a response!  
  
"Um, this is Monica. Would you like to talk to Ross?"  
  
"Sure..." his voice trailed off into the distance.  
  
Monica beckoned Ross as she whispered who was calling on the night when everyone is with their families.  
  
"Chandler?" Ross asked, confused.  
  
"Yeah, hey man. What're you doing?"  
  
Ross looked around. "Uh, eating dinner with my family. What are you doing?"  
  
Chandler glanced down at his lone plate of macaroni and cheese. It was all stuck in one clump, and ice cold. "Oh, just eating my gourmet pasta. Alone."  
  
"Dude, you're alone?"  
  
"Yeah, my mom went to some party thing. She'll be back later."  
  
"But it's Christmas! And you have...no one?"  
  
"Hey, I'm nineteen. I'll live. Welcome to the real world, huh?" Chandler stabbed an attempt at humor, but couldn't shake the feeling of unwant that ate him up inside.  
  
"Well, if you want...I guess you could come over here. We have some food left; turkey, if you want some."  
  
"No thanks. I hate turkey." Why didn't anyone remember this? Was he this invisible?  
  
"Okay, well you can come over for some company if you want to. It's just my parents and Monica and me. But I'm sure that's better than no one."  
  
"Yeah. Alright, I'll be right over."  
  
Chandler set the phone to rest in its cradle and headed out the door, not even bothering with a coat.  
  
As he started up the engine of his car, he noted to himself that all the other houses on his block were illuminated by soft-toned Christmas lights, and musical laughter rang from their icy windowpanes.   
  
And from his house?   
  
Nothing.  
  
It was dark...and it was cold.   
  
It was a house.   
  
_But not a home.  
_  
----  
  
Snow fell across the twilight. Night was approaching, quicker than ever before. Silent tears fell on his dashboard as he sat on the side of the road in front of the Geller household.  
  
As the flakes drifted sullenly across the street, Chandler pounded angrily on the steering wheel. "WHY? WHY did I even come home? She left...I'm stuck with strangers again for the holidays. I may as well not exist..."  
  
His eyes followed a single snowflake make its descend from the Heavens to the roof of his car. It drifted slowly down, unaffected by the billowing winds that hinted of a blizzard. When it reached the hood of his car, it froze over and served as the resting spot for all snowflakes before, and all that were yet to come.  
  
Sighing, Chandler stepped out of his car and wiped the pooling tears from his baby blues as if they had never existed.  
  
He almost wished he hadn't.  
  
----  
  
"So, Chandler, Ross tells us your band has been quite successful," commented Judy.  
  
Chandler forced the expected smile. "Well, if you count playing for more than three events around campus, then I think you heard him right."  
  
The Gellers and Chandler sat contently around their warm hearth as Jack Geller prepared a fire.  
  
Lights from the Christmas tree twinkled merrily, their patterns varying to resemble angels and other Christmas deities.  
  
Chandler loved it.  
  
He wouldn't admit it to himself, of course, but his real self- the side that he suppressed for most of his life- thought it was an amazing tree. It stood almost ten feet tall, and had so many ornaments on it that he got dizzy as he tried counting.  
  
Looking closer, he noticed that many of the ornaments were homemade...none of the ornaments on his tree were homemade.   
  
_Hell_, nothing in his house was homemade.   
  
Hours later, when the fire was slowly dying off into swirling smoke patterns, Mr. and Mrs. Geller found it appropriate to retire.  
  
"Well, I think we're off to bed. You kids take care, and don't stay up too late, okay?" winked Jack.  
  
"Chandler, dear, do you think that you ought to call your mother and let her know you're here?" Judy asked, her eyes full of concern for the poor boy who had not once, but twice, been dropped on her doorstep to spend the holidays with them.  
  
"No, she probably won't even recognize that I'm gone," he whispered, not meaning for anyone to hear.  
  
Ross yawned loudly as his parents ascended their staircase wrapped in holly. "Dude, I think I gotta go upstairs, too. I'm about ready to pass out down here."  
  
"Alright, that's cool. I think I'll just sit out here and wait for the fire to completely go out."  
  
"Okay, but are you going to be okay down here by yourself?"   
  
_'I'm here!'_ Monica wanted to scream, but she was sitting in the shadows, and preferred to just let his mistake go unheard.  
  
"Yeah. I'm fine."  
  
Outside, a sliver of crescent moon was glowing, casting a sheer blue-ish light across the white plains of snow. The streets were covered; it would be impossible to drive through it now.   
  
Monica sighed noiselessly, hoping Chandler didn't know she was watching him. She loved the way the shadows played with his profile, making him appear closer than he really was.  
  
The last glowing embers melted into the smoke, and the room gave way to utter darkness.   
  
On both sides of the room, two lost souls gave in to their pain. One wanted to be what everyone else was. The other wanted to have what everyone else had.   
  
"I hate this Christmas...I hate this world...I hate this life," Chandler bitterly whispered soft enough for no one to catch his fleeting words but the one who felt as much pain as he.  
  
"I know," Monica responded silently. "Me too."  
  
----

_**Okay, tell me what you think. :) **_

_**Oh, and here's a question that I really want an answer to. How much do you guys think Monica weighs? I really don't know, any guesses? Because I'll need that info for later on...when she becomes obsessive about it and everything. I'm afraid that if I tried to wager a guess that I'd be completely off and mess up the fic totally. So, any guesses?**_

_**Please tell me if you liked the chapter! I will update it soon...the more reviews, the better, lol. :D**_

_**Mel**_


	5. An ocean of pain

Hi everyone! I'm so sorry about the delay in all the updates...I have a bunch of stuff written...but my computer is as good as broken. :(  
  
Plus, school starts tomorrow- tomorrow!- and I'm totally unprepared, so I haven't had the time. Thank you all for the great reviews; they're appreciated, as always. :)  
  
I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's a bit longer, so hopefully that'll satisfy you. :)  
  
And, just to answer any questions about this class Chandler is taking...I really don't know what philosophy classes do, lol, so I'm making it up. :D Well...I don't know exactly what normal classes do, but I know what theirs will. I just needed him to take a class to...well, you'll see. :)  
  
Thanks for all the ideas about her weight. I'm going to go with about 230 lbs. It seems about right. :)  
  
Please enjoy, read, and review. :D (In that order. ;) You know, if you want to.)  
  
----  
  
She was cold- freezing, in fact.  
  
Wind billowed around her, making her thick hair swirl furiously into the breeze.  
  
She was standing at the edge of a cliff, a cliff that overlooked the waves crashing against the rocky shore from the ocean below.  
  
The cliff was her haven; the sense of absoluteness that she had sought after for so long.  
  
Seagulls cried out her name in anguish, begging her to stay put...pleading with her not to jump to her demise.  
  
Toes positioned precariously at the edge, she leaned back and forth into the wind, humming her silent song and dancing inside her weathered heart.  
  
The song she sang was too perfect for words; her dance too free for movement.  
  
She was so wonderful...so special in her own way.  
  
But she was getting cold.  
  
So cold from the rocky cliff that was slowly beginning to erode from the waves tearing against its surface. So cold from listening to the seagull's taunting cries...they begged her not to jump, but they had been the reason she thought of jumping in the first place. So cold from standing at the cliff's edge for so long.  
  
Cold from loneliness. Cold from heartbreak. Cold from the fear of the cold itself.  
  
Her heart pounded in tempo with the crescendoing waves. Stealthily, the beat quickened as the tide rolled in from the depths of the ocean. Night would soon blacken the iridescent pink sheen stretched across the vast horizon.  
  
Soon it would be colder.  
  
Waves erupted from the once steady sheet of blue. Once there was rhythm. Before, there had been rhyme.  
  
Now, she simply didn't have the time.  
  
Out of time, the waves pounded, thrashing wildly on the rocky cliffside. As they crept back into the ocean, the waves left their mark: a dark, wet stain, splashed upon the surface.  
  
They left a kiss...the kiss of lingering death.  
  
Thunder clapped in the distance, its power resounding her decision.  
  
It was time to jump.  
  
Taking the plunge, she swiftly dived into the rocky waters below, never to return again.  
  
Now, the seagulls mourned, for it was their taunting cries that had pushed her over the edge.  
  
As her body washed up to the shore, lifeless and numb, the seagulls hummed a low melody, brimming with solemn tones and soft cries.  
  
A requiem.  
----  
  
Drenched in cold sweat, Monica awoke with a start.  
  
There had been a dream, she knew. It wasn't often that her dreams had a message, but something told her to listen. Something was awry.  
  
The only catch? She couldn't remember it.  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
I just had the weirdest dream. I feel like I should remember it. I woke up...scared. Only the feeling stayed with me as I awoke; I can't remember the exact dream. Something tells me there was an ocean. Something tells me I need to remember this dream...  
  
Oh well. It's the first day of school for the new year. I hate January, but whatever. There's nothing I can do, huh? Well, I'm off to another boring day at school. I'll post my New Years resolutions in here, too.  
  
Love,  
Monica  
  
Things I want to accomplish before this year ends  
  
1. Lose weight (amount undetermined- enough to notice)  
2. Make more friends (I hardly see Rachel enough)  
3. Make my parents proud of me (maybe if I'm thin)  
4. Get all A's like Ross (I can do it, too)  
5. Stop biting my nails (They'll grow if I let them)  
6. STOP thinking about Chandler Bing so much...it's not my fault if we're more alike than he realizes...the guy thinks you're weird...not to mention fat.  
7. Become beautiful. It's all I want, to be one of them...someone who is beautiful.  
  
Beautiful...the word sounded amazing.  
  
'wow,' she wondered. 'What would it be like to be beautiful?'  
  
In her innocent eyes, beauty was only what met the eye. The flowing hair, ravishing smile, svelte body.  
  
Getting off her bed, she slipped into an outfit she had lain out for school. It was a new dress, a hazy blue with little white flowers. It was a bit too soon to wear it, as it was January and it was more of an April dress, but Monica didn't know how much longer she planned to be 230 pounds...and she wanted to get some wear out of it.  
  
Today felt like a day to wear that gorgeous dress...it was magical, almost. In her mind, she played out the future day to be one that would change her life forever.  
  
If only she knew.  
----  
  
"Thanks again, man, for letting me stay with you these past couple of days," Chandler said while on his way to school. He kicked graying piles of disheveled snow across campus.  
  
"Yeah, no problem. My mom loves company...and so does Monica," hinted Ross.  
  
"Great," Chandler replied nonchalantly, not realizing the second meaning behind his friend's words.  
  
During the remainder of the days in the past year, Monica and Chandler had barely said two words to one another.  
  
Her crush on him was still going strong...as was her desire to lose the weight he had criticized her for.  
  
"So," Ross broke the silence, "any new classes for you this semester?"  
  
"Eh...not much." Chandler had been rather quiet since Christmas. "Some philosophy class. Shouldn't be too hard."  
  
"Yeah. That sounds cool," Ross muttered as they reached his class. "This is me. Catch up with you later?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
As Chandler continued down the hallway, a stampede of students broke through, seemingly charging at him. In reality, Chandler knew that it was all in his imagination...but why did the world seem to be sneering-cheering-at those who were against him?  
----  
  
Feeling oddly confident, Monica strode alone through the masses in the hall. It was like a sea, populated by the most widely assorted varieties of fish.  
  
Though confidence carried her through inside, Monica kept her head hung low, pretending to be immensely interested in the patterns of the floor tiles.  
  
'What's the point in feeling semi-confident if I don't exult it?'  
  
The outfit made her feel better about herself: she was slightly lighter...and the blue in the soft fabric brought out her eyes. Beautifully.  
  
So she held her head high, looked towards the florescent yellow lighting on the dingy ceiling. Suddenly, she seemed to be flying; what a difference feeling good about yourself could make!  
  
And then it happened.  
  
Terribly, almost in slow motion, she stumbled, tripped, over an outstretched foot, and fell flat on her face in front of a crowd. Cringing, Monica struggled to get back up, even when she heard the jeers from her fellow classmates.  
  
Her creamy complexion melted into a deep crimson. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she didn't let them pass the barrier.  
  
Snickers floated throughout the hallway. "She looks like a beached whale in that dress!" shrieked a blond girl in a cheerleading uniform.  
  
"Yeah," screamed her equally foul friend while obnoxiously popping her pink bubble gum. "Go drown yourself in the ocean, whale!"  
  
Behind the two girls was Rachel, head hung low and an expression of helplessness written across her face. As she passed by Monica, she shook her head and attempted a smile. Monica saw that her eyes shone with tears.  
  
"Wait!" Monica wanted to cry out. "Can't you stand here and talk to me for a minute? I thought we were friends! You're my best- my only!- friend and I need your help." Her eyes pleaded, but mouth didn't speak.  
  
Rachel attempted to slow down, but her arm was seized by the gum-popper. "Rach!" she squealed. "Look at that guy! Ohmigod, I've never seen him before! He must be new! Do I look okay?" And away she pulled Monica's only hope.  
  
Every face in the hallway seemed to scream at her as she made her way to her first class of the day, Honors English.  
  
"Go drown yourself in the ocean, whale!"  
  
Too bad there wasn't an ocean at her disposure- she felt like the water could soothe her.  
  
Save her from the prison that was her life.  
----  
  
"Hello, and my name is Mr. Whitmore. We'll all be spending some time together during the next few months." The aging man beamed broadly at his class.  
  
'Great,' thought Chandler, 'another teacher who thinks they'll change your life with their magical presence. Well, I'm just thrilled to be wasting my time with you, too, buddy.'  
  
"Now, you may be wondering what exactly we will be learning in," he paused for a dramatic effect, "Philosophy."  
  
Good Lord.  
  
"Let me tell you something- we're not going to be discussing what people analyzed far too carefully in the past. No, no, no. What we will be talking about are the things that will be relevant to you. You," he emphasized, flashing his teeth widely at the already listless students.  
  
"For who you are is just as important as what you do. And what you stand for."  
  
'This man is worse that Mr. Rogers.'  
  
"You are beautiful people with beautiful lessons to learn."  
  
How the hell was this philosophy?  
  
"Now, what we will discuss-" he grinned, "is how we can help you through life by seeing the beauty in everything, appreciating everything life gives you, and analyzing how theories of the greatest can be played out into our lives today."  
  
What was this, a self-help motivation class?  
  
Worse yet, it was another prison; a prison to remind Chandler of everything he wasn't.  
  
He gazed out the window and watched how the birds soared gracefully through the sky, breaking free of all barriers.  
  
He sighed. Everything he was not wasn't anything he wanted to be.  
----  
  
They were supposed to write a poem...this much Monica knew. The rest of it she had drowned (drowned!) out by focusing on the birds outside, and not the droll of her English teacher.  
  
"...you have twenty minutes to finish your poems. Starting...now."  
  
'What the hell am I supposed to do? Write a poem? About WHAT?'  
  
She didn't want to kick off the new year with a bad start, so she began to write.  
  
Words flew freely out of her ink pen, cutting a piece of her heart with it as the words were displayed on paper.  
  
'I cannot move, cannot speak down under here I cannot breathe, my body's weak under the ocean clear I'm drowning here in my own blood deep blue waters are all I can see with the water my lungs flood As I become one with the sea'  
  
She finished in minutes, looking her poem over.  
  
Mariah Gilbert, a mousy looking girl that sat to the right of Monica gasped as she read Monica's poem over her shoulder. "Oh my God! That's a poem about your winter break?"  
  
'Oh, so that's what we're supposed to write about. And who the hell does this girl think she is to look at my work? She's just another person who thinks...knows...she has power over me. But why the hell a poem about winter break? Isn't this an honors English class?'  
  
Still, she shoved the loose leaf piece of paper in her binder and started anew.  
  
Monica finished last, narrowly making the twenty minutes of allotted time.  
  
"Look at her," Mariah Gilbert whispered to her friend. "Is she stupid? It takes her forever to write a freakin poem!"  
  
"Yeah," the other girl retorted. "I wonder what she did for Christmas...No, no...I wonder what she ATE for Christmas!" The girls face flushed as she got a brilliant idea. "Maybe it was her FAMILY!"  
  
Feeling her heart pound angrily inside her chest, Monica stood up and asked permission to use the restroom.  
  
'I've got to get outta here. I'm going to be sick!'  
  
Shaking, she led herself inside the stall, taking out her diary and pen as she went.  
  
Diary-  
  
I hate this...this life, if that's what you want to call it. It's just not fair. How can people be laughing at me? Making fun of me? Am I just such an easy target because I'm large?  
  
And Rachel can't even help me...It's not her fault, but it's all her fault. I'm desperate. Confused. I don't know what the hell I'm doing anymore. Please save me...save me from this prison I've created behind these pounds.  
  
Please, someone. I can't do it anymore. I don't even know what I need at this point, except to be accepted. And if I have to be thin for this to happen, then damnit, I will be!  
  
-Mon  
  
She pressed so hard into the paper that the ink bled through and tore the paper in half, but Monica didn't care. It made her feel better...something besides her heart was now torn.  
  
It was at that moment that an idea began to form.  
  
The idea was so terrible, so wonderful, so EASY, that she wondered why it hadn't occurred to her earlier.  
  
After all, she could eat practically nothing, starve, and still be burdened by the pounds.  
  
But, why not eat all she wanted, and rid of the food immediately thereafter?  
  
Her insides churned, stomach doing flip-flops in its large arena.  
  
Slowly, she raised her hand to her mouth and reached her first two fingers into the depths of her throat.  
  
This wouldn't become a way of life for her, she promised. Just a way to speed up the process a little more.  
  
She felt her food bubble up inside her chest and rise. Choking, she removed her fingers from her mouth and breathed.  
  
'No. You have to do this. Toughen up!'  
  
She closed her eyes, and to her surprise, saw Chandler's face.  
  
'Do it so he'll like you,' a voice inside her head urged. 'Do it so you can be beautiful!'  
  
The harsh liquid burned her throat and made her weak in the knees. Monica coughed heavily, but felt a strong sense of accomplishment.  
  
Once more, she reached for the back of her throat...this time peering into the swimming waters of the toilet.  
  
When she had finished, she came close to realizing the similarities between the taunting cries of her peers and the new way of life she was sure to find refuge in.  
  
One way, she had been ordered to drown herself in the ocean.  
  
This way, she was taking the plunge herself.  
  
Instead of the ocean, she was drowning in her own misery.  
  
And that was an ocean far too dangerous to cross.  
----  
  
I hope you guys liked it. This chapter was more of a filler chapter, actually, but it needed to be there. Hence the filling. ;)  
  
And to all those of you who I haven't talked to in like a million years, I am soooo sorry, miss you all, and will talk to you soon. Once this piece of junk I call my computer gets fixed. :) (We spent a hundred dollars on software to get it fixed, and I think it did more harm than good. Figures.)  
  
Please leave me a review because I have school tomorrow. :) LOL there's my reason. Oh, and if you liked the chapter. :)  
  
I'll post the next one soon. Sooner than this one was posted, I promise. Any questions, comments, reviews, etc. are welcome. :)  
  
Thanks!  
  
Mel  
  
:) 


	6. Mirror, Mirror

_**I bet you all thought I'd never update this. **_

Well, guess what? I did! 

Here is chapter six of Beautiful. Please, please, please, please send me some feedback on this. It would REALLY help me move this one along. 

I understand that Monica lost a lot of weight in four months, but I think it is possible, especially with the way she's doing it. Let me know if anything seems unrealistic. 

Thanks for all the review on the other fics. Not many people seem to like "To be with you", though, so I'm hesitant as to whether or not write a third chapter. -shrugs- You all let me know. :)

_Enjoy, and once again, sorry for the delay._

-Beauty is only skin deep-

Dear Diary,

180. That's right. Read those numbers carefully, because they're dropping! Forty pounds in four months...I don't ever think I've been so proud of myself!

Sure, I'm not the skinniest little thing ever, but hey, who cares?

Whoever said that the little fat girl couldn't do anything?

I'm happier now, and I know why. I'm not so huge anymore; there's actually girls my size. People talk to me in the hallways sometimes...I'm not the social recluse that I once was. And all of this happened in four months.

It's not like 180lbs is skinny or anything. Actually, to be honest, I want to drop like forty more pounds. I just don't want people getting suspicious.

"Oh, Monica, your new diet is marvelous!"

So they think I've become a vegetarian. Let them think what they want, I'm not pouring out of my clothing anymore. I can actually go to the store and buy things!

I know my ways of losing weight aren't exactly...ethical. But humans are far too greedy anyway...we eat our fill and then some. As long as I eat, I'm okay. If the food stays with me, fine. If I have to make a "trip" to the bathroom...well, it's not like I enjoy it or anything. But for once, I've felt happy. For once, I feel like I can finally walk down the hallway without feeling like I'm going to collapse under my own weight.

I'm going to a party tonight...a college party. Rachel and me are going. I think she's wondering how I've lost so much weight in so little time. I don't know if I should tell her, though. What if she thinks it's wrong?

-Mon

With a smile, she closed her diary, locked it with the key, and slid it underneath her mattress for safekeeping. They were her thoughts, her secrets, her life...the last thing she needed was for someone to find them out.

From across her room, the mirror glared at her, daring her to move. For the past seventeen years, mirrors had not been her friend. With a fleeting glance, she would look into them, shake her head in dismay, and find something else to do.

Now, however, things were different.

Smiling, she twirled around in a circle, letting her arms sail through the air of her pink haven. She laughed and flopped down on her rug, enjoying the softer sound her body made as it hit the floor.

Her world spun around her, she was only slightly dizzy. But that wasn't anything new. In fact, ever since her new "diet" had commenced, dizziness had seemed to be a common denominator in each day. But this, she could deal with. The weight was something with which she couldn't deal.

"Monica!" came her mother's cries from the first floor. "Rachel's here!"

"Send her up!"

Ever since Monica had been dropping weight, her parents seemed to take notice. Suddenly, she wasn't the fat daughter that had average grades, average talents, and average worth. The less she ate, the more she became. After all, less was more.

Wasn't it?

"Hey, Mon." Rachel flounced into the room, tossing her blue-jean jacket on Monica's bed.

"Hey," Monica replied, immediately envious of her best friends looks.

This was Monica's problem: The better she seemed to look, Rachel was able to top that a hundred times over.

"So, are you ready for the party tonight?" Rachel sat down next to her as both girls looked in the mirror.

"Yeah, I guess so. I don't really have much to wear." She glumly looked down at her perfectly acceptable choice of new pants a sweater with a new necklace to match. The outfit had taken her hours to pick out, but she would never reveal this to Rachel. Rachel had probably gotten ready in less than ten minutes, and looked better than she ever could.

"What do you mean you don't have anything to wear? You look great!"

"I don't know...I just feel like...fat."

"Fat, Mon?" Rachel shook her head, not knowing what to say to her best friend. It was true, by normal standards Monica would be considered "fat". But by judging her before weight to the size she was now, Monica looked great. "You look great."

Monica got up in a huff. "Well, Rach, I don't feel great. Do you ever wonder what it's like to be compared to you all the time?" She walked across the room and mimicked what she believed to be the majority of the student population. "Psst. Here comes Rachel Green...Oh, and her fat friend is behind her."

Rachel flushed a deep red. "People...people don't say...that."

"Sure they do! You think people don't wonder why we're friends? The skinny super-model and the cow?"

Tears stung Rachel's eyes. "First of all, Mon, you look beautiful. You're skinnier than you were before, and we both know that. Just whatever diet you're on, keep it up. It seems to be working great."

If only she knew.

"Second of all, I'm not friends with you because of what you look like. I'm friends with you because of who you are." She walked over to Monica and put her arm around her. They both stared down at the ground from the perch of her bed, absorbing the words.

"Thanks, Rach."

"You know I'm not just saying that."

"I know." But did she?

Rachel squeezed Monica's hand and patted her on the knee before getting up and examining her reflection in the mirror. If only Monica knew how she felt about herself...maybe the jealousy wouldn't rage through her like a sickness.

"Now let's go have some fun. This is supposed to be a huge party, everyone's going. It'll be great."

Who needed a party anymore? There would be food there... "I dunno, Rach. Maybe I should just stay here."

"What? No, you have to come! I need you!"

"All right," she gave in. "Whose party is this, anyway?"

Rachel's face lit up. "Joey Tribbiani's."

"Who?"

"Only the hottest guy ever to walk the face of the earth! He's in college right now, but he's friends with Amy"

"Oh, bubble gum girl!"

"Hey, she's my friend!"

Monica laughed. "Well, Joey may want to pick his friends better."

"Relax, he's friends with Amy's boyfriend. Anyway, they're both coming in for the weekend and throwing a huge party."

"Sounds fun. This Joey guy...Is he good looking?"

"Mon, seriously. The guy is like straight out of those Calvin Klein ads. Tall, dark, and handsome."

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

"Who knows?" Once again, she checked her reflection before scrunching her nose in dismay and grabbing her jacket. "C'mon, Mon. Let's go."

In the mirror they looked, and in the mirror, they were trapped. The perfect girl that epitomized beauty, the beautiful one who felt she was ugly.

The mirror watched on as the two walked out the door, not realizing that soon their lives would change forever. "Careful," it seemed to plead beyond the reflective glass. "Those who look in me too long shall always find something wrong."

----

Chandler hated it when everyone assumed he was superficial. Sure, he didn't exactly put himself out there and claim to seek beauty on the inside first, but looks weren't everything.

Just last night, he had been on a date. The girl was average looking, short, blond hair, green eyes. An effervescent personality, he noted, but how much talking can one take?

He wanted a girl. No, he wanted a friend. A girl that was a friend. A girlfriend. Wasn't that where the word came from, anyway? It's not like they had to be best friends to date, but knowing her first might be nice.

He felt like the only one without someone. Hell, even Ross had someone now. Julie was her name, and she was a perfectly sweet girl, aspiring to become a paleontologist like himself.

Was it too much to ask for another person to spend some time with, share some secrets with, maybe kiss goodnight?

Drumming his fingers on his philosophy book, Chandler glanced at the dingy mirror hanging over his bed. Hollow blue eyes darted back at him, watching every move.

"Oh my God. Is that really me?"

He quickly averted his eyes and decided not to think about the lost face of the man- no, boy, man was too strong a word- that pleaded back at him.

"Hey, man," Ross strode in the room, Julie following closely behind. "Are you ready?"

"For what?" he sat up.

"Uh...to par-tay!"

"What?"

"Yeah, didn't you hear? Me, you, and Julie are driving back to Long Island tonight. Do you know Joey Tribbiani?"

Chandler nodded, Joey was in his philosophy class.

"Well, he's having this big party back there. He's friends with Gandolf, whose girlfriend is this girl Amy, I think her name was, and she goes to school there. So everyone's going, are you in?"

"Nah, I don't think so."

"Why not?" Julie stepped in, brushing a lock of black hair from her face. "It'll be fun, I promise."

"I really don't know if I feel like partying. I mean....I went out last night."

"On another failed date, man." Ross stressed. "Let's get out and have some fun. You're so uptight."

Uptight? Ross was calling him uptight? This was not like it used to be. "All right. I'll meet you downstairs in ten minutes."

"Cool," Ross said as he and Julie walked out the door. "Maybe you'll find some girl you can hook up with there." He winked and left.

"Yeah, but that's not what I want, Ross!" Chandler muttered as he searched through piles of clothes.

He was a lost soul, rummaging around a pile of clothes that he hated, watching his friend enjoy happiness that he was deprived of for his entire life, and trying to find an answer to the question of life.

Before leaving he checked his reflection in the mirror. What, did he expect something to change in the past five minutes? Maybe the empty look in his eyes would be replaced by something happy.

He looked out the window at Ross and Julie who were pressed up against his old car, kissing. The mirror seemed to laugh at him. "All that he's got is everything you don't have!"

Angered, he threw his philosophy book at the teasing glass. His face stared at him from all different angles in the shattered glass.

Chandler grabbed his coat and shut the door behind him, not wanting to pick up the broken pieces.

----

_Please send me a review. Thanks, and I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. I'm still having a writer's block with this one, so any ideas are welcome. ( I do have a general idea of what I'd like to do, though.) _

Have a happy Thanksgiving, everyone, if the likely chanceoccurs that I won't update until after then. 

See ya! 

Mel


	7. Simplicity

_**Hey everyone! Thanks for the nice reviews, and sorry for the delay...the big delay. :) Hopefully, this will make up for it. This slightly more up-beat chapter. (angst fans, fear not, more is to come. and romance fans, also fear not. heck, Mondler fans fear not, okay?)**_

**_I hope that everyone had a great holiday season!_**

**_If the end of the chapter seems a little mean, keep in mind that Chandler is a kid, a teenager! He's bold, sarcastic, and sometimes doesn't think ahead before he opens his mouth. This does not make him a bad person, he's just lost and confused. (And, okay, it was a mean thing to say, but just read on, okay? ;))_**

**_Please review!_**

Whirring music, boom boxes blasting tunes of all different sorts…writhing bodies in the darkness of the extended basement, each dancing to a melody only they could hear…strobe lights flashing, illuminating faces of the adults- no, children- who were lost and tired, lonely and confused…they needed a home, needed a place to find their spirits.

So what did they do?

They partied.

Cheesy Madonna music blasted from the corner where Monica was sitting, self-conscious and alone. Once again, Rachel had lied to her. She abandoned her, left her in the corner with only the dusty and neglected toys that the young Tribbianis hadn't used since the early eighties.

_'C'mon, Mon. Rachel didn't abandon you. You're at a freakin' party, for God's sake. She left and decided to go talk to some people…maybe if you weren't such chicken shit, you'd do the same.'_

She glanced briefly at her watch. Eight 'o' clock. Great, Rachel probably wouldn't want to leave until at least midnight. That meant four more hours of this hell…this glancing up at the ceiling and around the room, trying to decipher what these people felt in the music that they were so intent on swaying to.

They were hardly talking, and this was something she was amazed at. In her history of parties (which was not a long list), the guests typically talked to one another, laughed, ate marshmallows and chocolate that the mother would prepare for them-the mother that was sleeping in the adjoining room.

This was all new to her, the drinking, the dancing, the pounding rhythm of the feet…the drugs. She was like an innocent bird plucked from the nest and tossed haphazardly into a mob of strangers.

It was all very new. _'This is a college party, Mon. College.'_

As the music died down and girls with hair twice the size of their heads led their men to their respective corners, Monica realized that she needed to stand up and socialize before she started looking like a total loser.

Slowly, as she would have preferred not to have been noticed, Monica made her way up the creaky stairs. She knew for a fact that Joey Tribbiani's parents weren't home. After all, what parent in their right mind would allow their child to throw a party like this?

From her perch, she could view the goings-on of the party from afar-the way she liked it. By a stack of old records, she saw Rachel talking to some guy that looked vaguely familiar. Wait- she peeked her head out the basement door and glanced at the wall, a shrine to the Tribbiani children. Yup. It was him, Joey Tribbiani. It was no wonder the face looked so familiar to her.

_'God, Rach wasn't kidding when she said he was hot.'_ Monica only hoped that he wasn't like most guys with looks: a complete jerk.

As she turned her head to the left, she caught glimpse of Amy, Rachel's bony, gum-chomping friend. Just the sight of her stick-skinny legs wrapped around the muscular man's torso made Monica want to scream.

It was amazing how much she wanted everything she didn't have.

Shutting the basement door, Monica headed out into the kitchen to fill up her drink again. A Diet Coke sloshed around the inside of her cup; Monica wasn't a big drinker. But, there was a first time for everything, so she grabbed a can of beer. Again, she was amazed at how many kids could fit inside the small home. There had to be at least a hundred people there, and she couldn't talk to any of them. All she wanted was someone that she could talk to. A guy, a girl, anyone!

_'All right. This is getting ridiculous. I've got to talk to someone! The next person I see, I'm going to have a nice conversation with.'_

She turned around and it was then that she saw the very last person on earth that she ever expected to see.

----

"Chandler!" Ross complained to his sullen friend. "Come on! Get up off of that couch and have some fun."

"I am having fun," he bitterly spat. "I'm at a party where I know absolutely no one but my roommate who is making out with his girlfriend and Gandalf. And who knows where the hell he is, anyway."

"Dude…I wasn't making out with her the whole time."

"Yeah," chimed Julie. "Just 99 percent of the time!" Gleefully, as she had inhaled five cans of beer, she grabbed Ross's face and threw him down on the couch. In between breaths, Ross glanced over at Chandler, throwing him apologetic looks.

Chandler was surprised at this. Normally, Julie and Ross weren't like wild carnivores. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the night. Whatever it was, Chandler was thrilled that they picked the perfect time to express their "love" publicly.

He ambled over to the bar in the kitchen, deciding that he needed another drink.

It was then that he saw her.

"Monica?" His jaw practically hit the ground at the sight of Ross's little sister, Ross's timid little sister, downing a can of Bud Lite.

She almost spit the beer back into the can, but composed herself and swallowed. "Hey, Chandler."

"Wha-wha-why are you here?" He managed to stutter out.

She leaned against the wall, trying to look as skinny as possible. "Well, you know. It is a party."

He laughed, not knowing that Ross's little sister had so much sarcasm bubbling under her surface. "Who are you with?"

"Rachel. She's friends with this girl Amy, whose boyfriend is friends with this guy that lives here. Joey. Why are you here?" He wasn't the only one who could ask questions.

"Well, I'm in Joey's philosophy class. And I'm friends with Gandalf, Amy's boyfriend."

This time, she did spit out her drink. "Philosophy?" She continued to laugh, much to his surprise.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Nothing. It just doesn't seem like you're a very philosophical guy."

"Yeah. I'm not gonna lie to you. It's a real drag. But hey…that's life."

"Yeah," she nodded in agreement. "I hear you."

Chandler was amazed at how easy conversation was with Monica. How had he never noticed before? He eyed her up and down. Not to mention, it looked like she had lost a ton of weight. She still wasn't skinny, but she did look good.

"Hey, do you want to come outside on the balcony with me? I mean, Ross is over in the corner and you're really the first person I've gotten to talk to tonight-"

"Ross is here?" Monica whispered shrilly. "Here? At this party?"

"Yeah. He sort of dragged me to it."

"Oh my God. He can't see me here. He'll tell my mom and I told her that I was sleeping over at Rachel's tonight!" Monica set her beer down and looked around frantically.

"Hey, relax." Chandler softly touched her arm. "He won't tell them. I mean, he is here, too. It's part of the unwritten code of parties: you both probably know you shouldn't be here, yet neither one should breathe a word of it. Besides, Ross is…busy at the moment."

"Wow. Okay. Let's not go into detail." She smiled, happy that she was capable of carrying on a conversation with a guy she had thought about for so long. He was her unreachable goal, the ultimate inciting incident that made her push, strive, kill to lose the weight. And so far, it was working. The forty pounds she had shed had made a difference. Imagine what the next forty- or sixty!- would bring.

"Hey, let's go outside," Chandler suggested, not necessarily wanting to suggest anything romantic. He merely wanted to get out of the noisy rooms chock full of lost souls. He preferred to wander alone.

"Okay." She followed him through a series of hallways and bedrooms. As they stepped out onto the balcony, Monica turned to Chandler. "Wow. You must have been here before to find this place!"

His face flushed, not believing what he was about to admit next. "Well, actually, no. It's just…every time I come to a new place…you know, someone's house, a restaurant, anything…well, I like to find an exit. Some way to get out if things aren't going right or just some sort of escape." He turned away from her and looked up at the moon. "You probably think I'm insane or something, but it's important to me that there's always some exit. I guess my whole life I've been escaping…it's something I've always done and probably will do forever."

"Wow." She was flabbergasted. They were both more alike than she thought.

"Yeah. I don't know why I said it." Chandler focused now on his hands, dry and cut, calloused and swollen from years of effort that never paid off.

"No, that's not it at all." Monica moved in closer to him. "I don't think you're weird at all. I mean, everyone has their own way of escaping. That's all life really is, in my opinion. An escape. You either spend your whole life looking for something that you can never quite find, or you choose the escape route and spend your life getting away from everything that your life is."

"I think I know exactly what you mean." Chandler turned to face her again. As the moon shone down upon her face, it illuminated her eyes. He was stunned: never before had he noticed how blue they were. "You…you have really pretty eyes."

Without even looking in the mirror, Monica knew that the rush of red that crept up from her shoulders must be reaching her cheekbones by now. "Thanks. You do, too."

"Thanks. You know, you're really easy to talk to."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Like, I went on this date with this girl the other night. Oh my God. Seriously, I think she did all the talking. I never got a word in. It was all about her and her makeup, clothes, jewelry, her dieting! God, it was insane!"

Monica laughed out loud. "I feel for you. I take it you're not going to see her again?"

"Not unless I'm the last man on earth and the future of the plant relied on us repopulating it. And maybe not even then."

"Wow. Someone is a little hard to please!"

"No, I'm actually not. I'd go out with any girl that was nice and fun to talk to. Seriously, looks aren't even that big of a deal. I mean, it would be nice if she wasn't a complete co-" He knew he was going to regret the next words before he even said them. It was one of those moments where he floated above his body and just glared down at himself, cursing silently at the asshole he was. He was hardly conscious that he was talking to her. In reality, it felt to Chandler like he was talking about girls to one of the guys. Not that Monica was a guy or anything, but she was just as easy to talk to as one.

"-ward." He finished on a meager note.

Immediately, he saw the hurt flash in her eyes. He felt like dropping to his knees, asking for forgiveness. He didn't mean to hurt her feelings, and he was sure that she knew his real words. But it would only hurt more if he brought it up. "I don't like cowardly girls," he managed to sum up.

"Oh. I see." Monica began to study the outline of the trees against the backdrop of the tall and slender houses.

"Yeah." It was then that he decided to be honest with her. "Monica, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I believe that beauty is only skin deep, honest!"

To his surprise, she turned back at him with tears running down her face. "Chandler, that's not the point. I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself. I'm mad that I'm a cow- yes, a cow- while other girls are walking stick figures. I want to be one of them. I want to live their lives just for one day to see what it would be like. I want to be beautiful and I want to be wanted. I want to want myself and accept myself in a way that I've never wanted anything before. But sometimes, and I know that you understand this, our dreams don't come true. Nightmares do, but dreams don't. They are fictional and only wait in a place that doesn't exist for people that shouldn't. So I make do. I'm the fat girl. But I deal. And I know that we all have secrets and lies and shit that we don't tell anyone. But here I am, spilling my heart out to some guy that's standing here-dumbfounded- and I don't even care. Because no one listens to me, anyway. You'll probably forget this conversation and that we even met! I thought that you could listen to me, but I was wrong. I should have known…you're the same as the rest of them."

He stood there, dumbfounded, as she had described. Of all the reactions he could have predicted, this was not one of them. He had no idea that she was so hurt, in such pain over her weight. Even as he looked at her, a so-called "overweight" girl with pounds to spare, he knew that she was beautiful. "Come here."

She wiped her tears away, angered that she had shown emotion. "What?"

"Come here." He clambered down the stairs and found himself on the grass. He laid down and motioned for her to follow him.

"What are you doing?" She was more confused now than angry, so she followed in tow.

"Laying on the grass."

"Yeah, I can see that. But besides that, what are you doing?"

He sighed. "Laying on the grass."

"Is that all?"

"Yup. He picked out a strand of grass out of the ground and put it between his teeth. "I think they need to cut it, don't you?"

"What?"

"Well, it's kind of long and tickling my chin. But then again, I don't know if they intended for us to lay down on it like this."

She was still confused. "But why are we laying down here? It's the middle of March."

"So? It's not cold."

"But we're in the grass."

"Yeah, I know." He shook his head. "You mean you never laid down in the grass before?"

"I don't know…I might have when I was like five."

"That's the whole point. Don't you remember when life was so simple?"

She rolled over on her side, facing him. "Things were never simple for me."

He turned to face her, glad that they had moved past his slip-up. He didn't believe she was fat anymore. She was only lost, and so was he. Perhaps he had made a new friend.

"I hear you. Sometimes I think that we all tend to drift back into a series of nostalgic memories. We make them better in comparison to now, but in reality, they were always difficult."

She smiled, forgiving him for talking about people her weight as cows. After all, she believed she was a cow. But two months from now, she wouldn't be. _Give me two months or so, and I'll lose the weight,_ she thought_. Give me two months and I'll be beautiful._

And she thought it was as simple as that.

**_Hopefully, you enjoyed that! It was slightly happier, wasn't it? lol. Now all you have to do is review and think of what might happen. When you review, you'll find out! :) I really hope that I don't get a long list of flames that tell me how mean I made Chandler, and if distracting her really changed her mind. Of course she'll be scarred. I mean, this guy has insulted her (albeit, accidentally the second time!) twice now. And she still does like him. But, you know, life is hard when you're a teenager. I'm sure that everyone knows someone (or is themself)a person to which looks matter in a relationship. And I believe that they do matter to a certain extent, but Chandler was just expressing his frustrated views on why he had such bad luck in love. _**

**_lol, Okay. I'm leaving now. But before you do, please leave me a little review!_**

**_Thanks! (oh, and happy new year!)_**

**_Mel_**

****

**_BTW, look for lots of updates soon, including one on To be With You, a Mondler fic that not many people are reading (or at least reviewing!) Just thought I'd say that (hint, hint!) lol_**


	8. Shall we be lonely?

_**Thanks for the reviews, everyone! This chapter is shorter, but in the upcoming chapters, the story will truly unfold and it will be more exciting. I promise. lol. ;)**_

**_Enjoy, and leave me a review if you are feeling kind. :)_**

_Dear Diary,_

_Well, this is it. I don't really know what 'it' is, but I have a feeling that this is it. And this is something confusing. This is love._

_I just spent the entire night talking with Chandler. I don't love him; that would be too...sudden. And you know how I liked him before? Well, that seems like puppy-love now, a crush. Now I really feel like I know him. I feel like he knows me._

_We had this talk...and he almost slipped up and said that I was fat. Normally, this would have, like, killed me. But I heard it once and I can hear it again. And he apologized, too, because he was just like letting his heart wear on his shoulder and that was only what he thought. If he says he doesn't like 'fat girls', then I'll become someone whose not one. I'll be beautiful. Just wait._

_I really think I can do it, lose the weight, I mean. For once, I can really picture myself skinny. And in my mind, I'm beautiful._

_One thing really struck me about Chandler the other night: he's not like the other guys. He's not cocky or assured. He's not stupid and wanting to get laid. He's lonely and scared, just like me. He's afraid of the world and he's afraid of himself, he's wary of his actions and he covers up himself in a series of facades._

_Is it so wrong to say that I love that?_

_-Monica_

----

Chandler stared at the winding road ahead, wondering if he should reveal to Ross that Monica was at the same party they had just went to. He glanced over at his sleeping friend and Julie, wasted from an excess of alcohol. Ross, in all his older brother protectiveness, probably wouldn't understand.

Gripping the wheel with a strange sense of fear, Chandler saw beyond the windshield that rain was starting to fall. Drops upon drops crashed down on the car, obstructing his already blinded view.

_'Ross would probably kill me if he knew I was so much as talking to his little sister.'_ He thought back to their 'rule'.

_"Okay, dude, here it is. You don't touch my girlfriends, I don't touch yours. The same goes for moms, sisters, aunts, grandmothers-"_

_"Ross, grandmothers? Seriously?" Chandler had retorted during their jaded conference._

_"Well, you never know," shrugged Ross. "All I'm saying is that these rules are...binding. For an eternity. Deal?"_

_"Whatever."_

Eternity. That word seemed to ring in his ears. As Ross snored lightly and Julie, deep in slumber, hummed a nonexistent tune to herself, Chandler pulled onto campus.

It wasn't like he wanted to start anything with Ross's sister; she just seemed like a nice girl. Monica was the first person in ages that he had carried on a true conversation with. Most conversations included sarcasm, biting wit, and anger to cover up the truth. But with her, Chandler felt like he could be himself.

Leaving the car and quietly closing the door, Chandler surveyed Ross and Julie. They looked cute together, Ross obviously felt comfortable around her, and well, what more was there?

Friendship?

Trust?

Underneath it all, Chandler was sure they felt lonely. He bounded up the back staircase and entered their room, tossing his coat on the ground. It had been a fun night, but Chandler was starting to realize, in the midst of it, how shallow he could be sometimes.

_'This is why you don't have a girlfriend. You're sarcastic, a liar, and sometimes downright mean.'_ Flopping down on his bed face first, Chandler buried his head in the pillow, wallowing in his loneliness.

In spite of it all, he began to wonder what Monica was thinking and if she was lonely, too.  
----

_One Month Later_

"Hey, is this Chandler?" Monica's voice shook slightly as it reverberated over the phone.

"Yeah. Who is this?"

"It's Monica. Monica Geller, you know, Ross's sister?" She bit her nails, scratching at her pillow case in anxiousness.

"Yeah." Chandler thought back to that day, a month ago, when they had spent time together at the party. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much. I was just sitting here, catching up on my contacts," she smiled. Monica had debated on calling him for at least three days. Finally, she got up the courage to call him and see what he was doing.

She sounded more confident than last time, Chandler noted. He wondered what this change brought. "That sounds like fun."

She twirled the cord around her delicately plump pinky finger. "Yeah. It's loads of fun."

Chandler sensed sarcasm from her, something he didn't know Monica had inside. "Well, I guess school is almost over. Have you been looking at colleges?"

"Eh, some. I haven't really decided yet, though." She smiled to herself, knowing full well she would attend the same college as Ross and Chandler did.

"That's cool."

"Yeah. It's cool."

The line fell silent, and Monica blushed a furious red upon realizing that she had momentarily run out of things to say.

_'Oh my God, Monica, just freakin' say something!'_ She gripped the pillowcase and crafted a lie up on the spot.

"So, I'm going to be around the campus next weekend. I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out or something because I'm just going to be around and bored."

Chandler thought to himself. Did he really want to pursue Monica? She wasn't exactly his type, but did he even have a type? Maybe this was his chance to make a friend, not a girlfriend. Perhaps she could help him in some way, aide him in being a better person.

He never revealed this to Monica, but he admired her personality, her charm, her sheer innocence.

All of these were things Chandler had lost long ago.

_'Shit,'_ Monica thought. _'He doesn't want to and is thinking of a way to get out of it. Maybe I'll make up another lie.'_

"Sure," Chandler came back to his senses. "That sounds great. I'll call you before next weekend, okay?"

Monica jumped off her bed. "Yeah! That sounds great!" She looked down at her body, determined to lose at least five in the next week. In the past month, she had lost another twenty five pounds, lowering her total to 155 lbs. The urge to rid of the food was becoming stronger now; Monica couldn't deny this. Yet a part of her didn't want to stop.

A part of her wondered if she'd be able to.

"So I'll call you," Chandler continued, wrapping up the conversation. "I mean, I wouldn't want you to be bored or lonely or anything."

She smiled. "That's nice, Chandler. So I'll talk to you later."

"Bye."

"See ya."

She hung up the phone, feeling content. Now, if only for a while, she had someone else to be lonely with.  
----

**_I know that it was really short, but I had time to update a fic that could have a short chapter placed in it...and, well, Beautiful just came to mind. I'm sure everyone is just surprised I updated something, lol. _**

**_I will post the final chapter of When we get there, my R/R Valentine's fic for the Everlasting Love contest over at F-B, within the week. It's done, I just have to post it. :)_**

**_Please review!_**

**_Mel_**


	9. Leaving

_**Wow, thanks everyone for being so patient with me! I'm truly sorryfrom the bottom of my heartthat I've been lazy with updates. Now, I know that not everyone's lives depend on my updates (can you at least pretend? lol) but I have a conscious. I swear. lol. **_

**_Anyways, thanks for the immense support with this fic. Please let me know if you like this chapter...:)_**

_**Disclaimer: Nothin'. Wow. Forgot about these! In, like, everything. lol. Oops. ;) Don't shoot! **_

_Dear Diary,_

_It burns. Oh my God, it hurts me sometimes. Every time I reach into the depths of my throat with my scarred fingers, muscles clench- muscles that I didn't even know I possessed._

_Nothing like a little drama, huh?_

_Well, I'm not kidding, though. I want so badly to make light of this situation, to poke fun at a fear that runs like hatred through my veins._

_But I can't deny the fact that my life has improved tenfold._

_I'm going down to visit Chandler today. Somehow I convinced him I'm going down to check out the college. I hope it's not that obvious like everything else that I do._

_That's why it feels good to have this secret, this one thing I can keep to myself. It's almost like a small celebration each time I skip a mean, every time I choke on my food in the bathroom. I know I shouldn't like it so much, but my body quivers even at the thought of retaining a meal now. I don't really know if I can._

_My stomach is growling now, but I've learned to ignore it. I'm nearly 145 lbs now. It's drastic, but I'm losing nearly a pound a day. I guess the more weight you have, the quicker you can lose it._

_I feel so good some days, and then I feel so guilty. I almost feel like I'm not doing enough. I've been getting dizzy, too, but it's all a part of the process, I figure._

_I've got it under control, I swear._

_I promise I won't be like the other girls I've heard of._

_I know what I'm doing._

_I don't lose battles._

_Monica_

She set down the black ballpoint pen next to her frilly pink lamp. In the back of her mind, she made a mental checklist: Get new furniture soon, pink looked childish.

Chrome rays of light from the mirror glinted at her, grinning in the broad sunshine of the day. Monica grinned, also in the spirit. Today was going to be a good day, she could feel it.

Her stomach rumbled in time with the tone of her mother's voice.

"Monica, come down and get some breakfast!"

Monica groaned. Just thinking about eating made her feel fat; day by day, she was achieving her goals. Eating could wait until another day.

"Coming, Mom!" She bounded down the stairs, pleasantly pleased at the lack of noise she made.

Judy glanced up at her and smiled. Finally, her daughter was making her proud. Not only was she working out, Judy thought, but she was making better grades, improving her social life. "Monica, what do you want to eat? It's a long drive to visit Ross, honey, and I don't want you to be hungry."

Monica felt her stomach drop and twinge, her eyes blinked repeatedly, and her face flushed until it burned. She hated confrontations. "Well, um, Mom, I'm going to eat on the way out there. Plus, I'm going to lunch with Ross and I wouldn't want to spoil my appetite!" She laughed shakily, trying to make light of the situation.

"Oh, well, okay." Judy barely looked up from her crossword puzzle. "Have fun. I expect you'll be back on Sunday?"

"Late Sunday," Monica reiterated. "Late."

"That's fine. Tell Ross I said 'hello'."

"Sure will," Monica tapped her foot impatiently by the door as she grabbed a light jean jacket, for it was early April.

"Do you need some money?"

Monica paused. She quickly peeked down at her oversized t-shirt (to hide both extra weight and lack thereof), her worn in shoes, and her faded jeans that were sizes too big even though they were hand-me-downs from Rachel's sister, Amy. She _could_ use a shopping trip.

"Money?" Though she was overjoyed at her mother's new attitude towards her, cash offerings were a rarity, even with Ross.

"Yes, money." Judy raised her eyebrows. "For food."

"Oh, yeah, of course!" She stuttered and nearly tripped over a laundry basket in the middle of the floor.

"Careful, Monica," she warned.

Monica blushed. "Sorry, I didn't see that there." She grabbed the cash from her mother's hands and mentally planned out her new wardrobe.

"Bye, Monica."

"Bye, Mom."

She blissfully exited and basked in the beautiful golden hued sunlight. "_Finally_," she sighed. A part of her worried her mother was suspicious of her eating habits, but her sensibility reasoned that Judy was thrilled Monica was losing weight.

Fumbling slightly with the car keys, Monica hesitantly fiddled with them, suddenly getting the odd impression that she was being watched.

She glanced over her shoulder, shrugged, and opened the car door without even unlocking them. "That's strange. I thought I locked it."

Tossing her duffel bag in the backseat, Monica smiled in slight confusion at the pile of blankets gracing the far back of the station wagon. "I don't remember going camping lately...but whatever."

The long road ahead, Monica set forth, blasting the radio loudly.

She grinned as she saw her house in the distance, growing smaller and more minute in the rearview mirror. Finally. Monica sighed and drummed her fingers on the dashboard, waiting strangely patient at the stop light.

"Shit. The map's in back." She gritted her teeth and estimated the time the stop light would be red. "Well the longer I wait, the longer I go without a map." She thought aloud. "But seriously, do I need a map right now? I'm, like, two minutes from home." She paused. "But sometimes the places we lose ourselves in the most are the places we always thought we'd never have trouble being found," she quoted some unknown entity. Unbuckling her seatbelt and whirling around, Monica began hearing soft, slightly muted breathing for the first time.

"That was deep, Mon," grumbled a voice from beneath the pile of blankets.

"Oh my _God_!" Monica screeched and pulled the car haphazardly over to the shoulder of the road. "What the hell?"

From out of the blankets popped Rachel, hair messed up and eyes bloodshot. "Hey!" She smiled gleefully, brushing the shimmering locks of golden hair from her eyes. "What's up?"

"Um...sorry. _What_?" Monica's jaw was practically scraping the red upholstery of the worn-in car.

Rachel squinted her eyes, still heavy from sleep. "Well, first I said that it was deep, your comment about being lost. And then I said hey. Then I wanted to know what was up." She smiled, climbing over the rows of backseats.

"Wha..._what_?" Monica shook her head, helping Rachel over the seats. "Rach, did you _sleep_ in my car?"

She frowned. "No, you freaking locked it! I had to pick it with a bobby-pin this morning!"

"Well I _do_ park it in the driveway. And I typically don't get guests in the middle of the night..." She trailed off. "Well, when did you get here?"

"You're not going to start with why?" Rachel smiled as she checked her teeth, peering disgustedly at her flawless reflection in the pocket mirror.

"I'm just trying to get a time-frame here, Rach."

"All _right_!" Rachel raised her eyebrows defensively. "I didn't think you'd mind me coming along!"

"I don't really," Monica mentally groaned. Her weekend with Chandler was going to undoubtedly turn into a weekend with her, Chandler, Rachel, and maybe Ross. _'Oh, God. Not Ross.'_

"Well, since someone is so inquisitive today, I got here at about 5:30."

"A.M?"

"No, P.M." Rachel rolled her eyes. "Yes, A.M.! You get up so late, I expected you to be out here earlier. Otherwise, I may have gotten here later."

"Wow, you get up so early."

Rachel turned her head towards the window and stared at her transparent reflection. "Yeah, well, it's hard to sleep with all the screaming."

Monica's stomach fell; Rachel was referring to her parents. She reached over and touched Rachel's hand, immediately sorry for wishing she hadn't come. No one at their school knew about Rachel's dysfunctional home life, and Rachel preferred to keep it that way. "Are they at it again?"

"Yeah, something about a woman. Who knows." Rachel shrugged and Monica saw tears brimming underneath the surface of her cerulean eyes. Doing her best to blink them back, Rachel attempted a smile. "So. Should we go?"

"Sure. Do you have stuff with you?"

"Mon, you may leave the doors locked, but the trunk was wide open. My suitcases are in there."

"_Suitcases_?"

"Well, yeah." Her big blue eyes blinked innocently, as if to suggest there were no other way to travel.

"It's only a weekend, Rach."

"Not if I can help it."

Monica opened her mouth to comment on how they had to be back for school, but smartly decided not to press the issue at the moment. Rachel was going through enough and she was going to let her believe what she wanted. "Did you at least tell your parents you were leaving?"

Rachel shook her head, no.

"Not even a note?"

Rachel choked, hovering dangerously between a sob and a laugh. "They probably won't even notice that I'm gone."

Setting out to reassure her, Monica almost replied, _"Sure they will."_ But she didn't. Perhaps Rachel's parents wouldn't notice she was gone. They hardly noticed anyone but themselves, and in that big of a house...anyone could be anywhere.

Monica sighed and turned up the radio, blasting it so loud that they couldn't hardly decipher the words. She turned into the street, setting out on their trip. The fact that Rachel's parents wouldn't take note of her departure crossed her mind once again. "Well, sometimes it's best that way."

"Huh?" Rachel looked back over at Monica, eyes tear-stained. Her lower lip jutted out from her mouth, a plateau to rescue the tears from freefalling for too long. As long as they didn't reach the ground, they were less real. Monica let out a languid sigh. If only the people who thought Rachel was perfect could see her now. Though Rachel sometimes didn't make time for Monica, Monica would always be there for her.

"Nothing." She gave her friend a smile of reassurance. "Let's get out of here."

An enthusiastic nod from Rachel encouraged her to floor the gas as they reached the highway.

Hair blowing in the breeze, both girls remained silent as the sped across the freeway.

With a far-off look in her eyes, Rachel focused on the scenery, fixating her gaze on the broken down cars lining certain portions of the road. She thought of her secret, something that could virtually destroy her. This was why she needed to take this trip, something she couldn't even reveal to Monica. It was _imperative_ that she go back. It _had _to be done.

Watching the highway melt by in a haze of gray shallow concrete, Monica kept thinking about Rachel's impending tears.

_'I feel so bad for her, she has so many problems.' _Somewhat bitterly, she laughed in a tone inaudible below the beat of the music. _'But don't we all? Take a good look at yourself in the mirror.'_ Her stomach dropped and rumbled at the same time. _'But look where that's gotten you.'_

For it only takes so many tears, so much heartbreak, so much pain to push someone to the brink before those tears parade in torrents...and finally burst.

_**Okay, so the ball is rolling! The next few chapters are big ones. They're important. As is the rest of the fic. ;) lol**_

_**I promise more updates soon. I do like reviews, though. :) But don't feel pressured. lol. I just like to know if people read it. **_

_**Hope everyone's having a great day!**_

_**Thanks!**_

_**Mel**_


	10. All along the open road

_**So, this is a pretty quick update, huh? Thanks for all the reviews, guys. I know I sound redundant, but it makes my day every time I see the notices in my mailbox. :) **_

_**I'm leaving for vacation at the crack of dawn tomorrow, so I won't be around to update for like a week (Not that you expected this again. lol. Frequent updates. Maybe I'm just getting better. lol)**_

_**Please tell me what you think of this chapter...like I said before, it's all starting to pick up speed and everything. (Does it even seem like the same fic to anyone else? It's sort of doing it's own thing now, it seems to me. lol.)**_

_**Anyways...**_

_**Disclaimer: Do. Not. Own. Anything. Except the pink notebook I wrote this in. :)**_

"I'm so hungry."

Lord, here it was again. Monica turned her focus from the highway to Rachel's incessant pleas.

"Hungry? It's not even noon yet."

"Mon, I haven't eaten all morning," Rachel raised her eyebrows and for the first time Monica could see the intricate stress lines weaved through her forehead: spattered one-way roads blotted with the pain from staying up all night worrying about the dawn's impending sorrow.

Gray pavement warmed Monica's eyesight; it didn't seem to end and she felt at peace with this sacred, safe knowledge.

"I think we need to stop soon, anyway," Rachel mused. "If I see anymore highway I might just go insane." She reached into the pocket of her carefully faded jean jacket and pulled out a small hand held mirror. Minute enough to point out every inconceivable flaw, the mirror smiled back at a grimacing Rachel. "I swear to God, whoever freaking invented the mirror deserves to like, die."

Relieved to have lifted the topic of conversation from eating, Monica nodded. "No shit. I hate looking in the mirror." She paused and frowned, the small black hairs lining her eyebrows furrowing in tandem with her cherry red palette of mouth. "But Rach, you're gorgeous and you know it. I wouldn't mind looking in the mirror every day if I looked anything like you."

Rachel snorted. "Yeah, well, you don't know the half of it." Her blond honeysuckle hair quilted her face from Monica's view, a golden sheet of tumbling woven silk. "Besides, Mon, you've lost so much weight. Seriously, what is this new diet you're on?"

Monica's stomach lurched and tumbled over upon itself and the lack of food inside. Her palms began to sweat, beads of anguish and lies smoothed down the harsh dry skin that was her hand. God, she hated feeling like this, this same guilty reaction plagued her each time someone questioned her methods of weight loss.

_'She can probably see right through you,'_ Monica groaned inside, but then proceeded as if nothing were wrong (a testament to the goings-on of her everyday life).

"Well, I'm just...doing things differently. I guess my baby fat is just finally disappearing."

"Wow," muttered Rachel. "That's really something." From the far-off daze sheeting her eyes, Monica could tell that Rachel's full attention was directed elsewhere.

With this, Monica began to feel dizzy. The gray pavement began to seamlessly melt into the horizon, making a blurred portrait of epic confusion. She lifted her hands from the wheel and breathed in deep. _'I think I'm going to pass out!'_ She looked over at Rachel and saw her chattering away but watching the other window. She tried to scream, but Rachel's next words made it all come apart.

"You know, maybe I should try that diet you're on sometime."

"No!" Monica shrieked, screeching the car across the four lane highway onto an exit, landing at a halt in a desolate McDonald's parking lot.

Horns blared, angry at the station wagon. Monica's slip-up had nearly thrown the entire freeway into utter chaos.

Having had her head flung forward, Rachel placed a hand against the nape of her neck. "Jesus, Mon! What the hell?"

Her knuckles were as white as chalk, and the sheen area encircling her eyes mirrored the solidity of her ashen skin.

"Mon?" Rachel breathed heavily, choking back tears. "My God, we almost died! Did you not _see _the cars barreling down the road? They were coming _towards_ us! I think I saw my entire life flash before my eyes just now." She gulped and blew her nose on a crumbled napkin laying on the corner of the dashboard. "I mean, all of the sudden I was ten and we were playing dolls and Ross was in the corner and then I was fourteen and we were swimming only you didn't want to put on a suit so I had to hang out with Ross the whole time and this was so awkward because he kept staring at my bikini top and then I was at your house this morning and I was crying and God, Mon, I never got to tell you how come so now I'm going to tell you the real reason behind it-"

"Rachel!" Monica shook her friend's shoulders gently. "Calm down! Are you okay?"

Feebly, Rachel nodded. "I think so."

"Good. Wow. I'm so sorry."

"What happened, Mon? I mean, one second I'm talking to you about your diet and then you start screaming and going berserk."

"I think...I think I must've lost control of the car or something."

"That was insane," Rachel gulped. "The last thing I remember is you screaming 'no' when I mentioned I might want to try your amazing diet." She paused and looked intently into Monica's eyes. "That's not...that's not why you freaked out, was it?"

"No...that's ridiculous. Why would I...why would I...do that?" Monica stumbled across her words, unable to find quite the right ones.

"I don't know." In her heart, Rachel believed that Monica didn't want to utter secrecies regarding ways to look good. _'Is she really that upset because she's finally catching up to me weight-wise and doesn't want to make her struggle harder?' _Rachel shook her head, it couldn't be. Monica just wasn't like that.

Watching Rachel contemplate her previous words, Monica's mind began to swirl with thoughts. _'Oh my God, she's figuring it out. She's going to think I'm crazy or tell my parents about what I do now.'_

Rachel shrugged her shoulders and smiled at Monica. "Well, seeing as how we stumbled upon a McDonald's..."

"Yeah," Monica managed a smile. "Now would probably be a good time to get something to eat." _'I can't tell her how I eat. I can't tell Rachel what goes on. It might give her ideas and I can't bear to have this happen to her, too.'_

Monica continued, "I could use a soda." Getting out of the car, Monica noticed a pay phone. "Hey, Rach?" She called out to Rachel who was already halfway inside the restaurant, demure mouth grinning at the scent of boiling hamburgers swimming in grease.

"What?"

"I'm going to call Chandler from a pay phone to let him know we're coming. Would you say that we're about an hour and a half away?"

Rachel narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the mention of Chandler instead of Ross, but answered nonetheless. "Eh, give or take."

Digging deep in her pocket, Monica fished out a quarter. Her mouth watered at the smell of simmering food. _'I'll eat in a little bit. I'll eat with Chandler.'_

As she dialed the number to Chandler and Ross's dorm, Monica wondered what she, Ross, Rachel, and Chandler were going to do for an entire weekend.

_'What a strange group: my brother, my best friend, the guy I practically love and me. What the hell are we all going to do?'_

Monica supposed she and Rachel could _actually _look around campus and get familiar with college life, something everyone believed was their intention.

_'That sounds boring. I hope Rach is willing to hang out with Ross for a night...though that sounds pretty unlike anything she'd want to do.'_

The phone began to ring and on the third ring, someone picked up.

"Hello?" Asked an impersonating gruff voice.

Monica's jaw dropped; she hadn't considered the fact that her brother- Ross!- might be the one to pick up. After all, he did live there, too.

"Ross? It's Monica." She bit her lip. This was strange situation.

"Oh, hey, Mon." On the other line, Ross's face took on a bewildered look. His sister _never _called him; something must be wrong. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything is fine." She took a deep breath, anticipatory of Ross's reaction to her next words. "So, uh, is Chandler there?"

Ross frowned, confused. "Yeah, he's right here. Why?"

"Can I talk to him?" Monica chewed anxiously on her nails as Rachel gave her a thumbs-up sign; she held a gigantic tray of fast food in her hands. _'Well, at least someone is happy.'_

"Why do you want to do that?"

"Because I called to talk to him," groaned Monica, agitated.

"Do you even know Chandler?"

_'Probably better than you do.' _She thought. "Yes, I know Chandler. Why else would I want to talk to him, Ross?"

"How do you know him, though?"

"Ross!"

In the background, she could hear Chandler's voice: "Dude, just let me talk to her, all right?"

Monica breathed a sigh of relief; she loved her brother and all, but she couldn't shake the feeling that the weekend with him would be taxing.

"Monica?" Chandler picked up the other end of the phone.

"Hey!" She smiled. "What's up?"

Chandler shrugged and then realized she couldn't see him. "Oh, not that much. Just fighting intergalactic wars and winning back the empire. You?"

"What?"

"Ross watched _'Star Wars'_ for the umpteenth time today. If I hear anything else about light-sabers, 'the force', or Princess Leia in that gold bikini, I may have to join the dark side and fight against Ross."

Monica beamed. "Well, I guess we'll have to do something else than watch 'Star Wars' this weekend, huh?" There was nothing like shameless flirting.

"Unless you want to witness an incredible light-saber duel between Ross and I, then I'm going to say something else sounds great."

"Wait, Ross actually brought his toy light-saber collection to college? I thought Mom made him throw them away."

"Not unless he bought some new ones at _'Toys R Us',_ because we currently have a semi-shrine dedicated to the entire trilogy and I'm pretty sure there's light-sabers involved.

In the background, Monica heard Ross's protests: "You can't buy those at a toy store. For your information, I got them at an exclusive _'Star Wars'_ convention. They're originals!"

"Ross doesn't sound too happy about our conversation," she laughed.

Chandler snorted and Monica could hear rustling. "Yeah, well, I'm in the hallway now. He can't hear me anymore and the light-sabers aren't allowed to leave their cases so I'm pretty much safe."

"Then the duel is out of the question?"

"Hopefully."

Monica chuckled as she thought of something, "Twenty bucks bets he's got his ear pressed up against the door listening."

"Eh, I doubt it. Luke Skywalker wouldn't do such a thing. Plus, Julie is in there with him. I doubt he's wanting to look like much more of a dork in front of her...and besides, they're probably busy enough."

"God, that's gross. I can't think of my brother like that."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I can't either."

"It's weird though, that he has a girlfriend." Monica couldn't help but wonder why Ross could get a girlfriend and why she couldn't get a boyfriend.

"Yeah, but she likes rocks and _'Star Wars'_. It's like a match made in intergalactic heaven."

"That's for sure!" Monica laughed and then remembered why she had called. "Well, listen, we sort of have a problem."

"Oh, are you not coming?"

She couldn't help but smile at how worried her sounded. "No...I'm still coming. But so is Rachel."

"She is?"

"Yeah, I got in the station wagon this morning, and she was hiding in the backseat. She had some...problems. And she needed to get away. So..."

"Well, hey, that's fine. Ross should be happy."

"What about Julie?" Neither Monica nor Chandler were oblivious to Ross's inappropriate crush on Rachel.

"She's actually leaving pretty soon here. She's going home to visit her family; her sister just had a baby, I think."

"Well, that's...interesting." Monica couldn't help but think that the weekend would be strange.

"Yeah, should be."

"My quarter is about to run out, so we should actually be there in like an hour or so."

"Cool."

"Real quick, does Ross know we're coming?"

"For what it's worth, he will in about an hour."

Monica snorted. "I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

"Eh, Rachel's presence should soften the blow."

"Hopefully. So I'll see you in a little bit."

"Okay."

"Drive safely," he smiled.

"I can try."

"Bye."

Monica hung up the phone feeling lighter than air. She skipped across the parking lot, singing a song all her own. "I think I'm falling in love, I think I'm being a fool, I think I'm head over heels for you." She grinned, happy that she was clever enough to make up a song on her own.

When she made it in McDonald's, her mood dampened.

"Mon, over here!" Rachel stood up and waved for her. "I got you some food!"

Pulling out the metal lined chair, Monica sat down. "Well, I'm not too hungry, but thanks. I'll just get something to drink."

"I can't believe you're not hungry, Mon!" Rachel sunk her perfectly pearly white teeth into her cholesterol dipped cheeseburger. "I'm starving!"

"Yeah. I can see that. But I'm fine...thanks for getting me the food, though."

When she was done chewing, Rachel looked up at Monica slyly. "So. Did you call _'Ross'_?"

"Yeah," Monica said slowly, wondering why Rachel had said it like that, and said Ross instead of Chandler. Then it hit her: Rachel, who didn't know about Chandler and her -not that they were anything, Monica reminded herself- was beginning to figure things out.

"Monica, you're blushing!" Rachel shouted with glee. "What? What is it?"

She hesitated, "Nothing."

"Aw, come on!"

"Really, it's nothing."

"Are you really going to see _Ross_?" Rachel winked and delicately sipped her soda.

"Well..."

"I knew it!" Rachel squealed. "It's Chandler, isn't it?"

"Hey..." Monica meant to tell her that those who draw to conclusions are almost always wrong, but she could feel the red carpet smothering her face.

"You know you can't hide anything, you're as red as a tomato!" She clapped her hands together. "This is_so_ great!"

"God, Rach, you'd think I won a Nobel Peace Prize by the way you're acting."

"Are you saying I can't be happy for my best friend?" Rachel smiled, but raised her eyebrows.

"I'm _saying _that Chandler doesn't know and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Oooh, is this why you've lost all that weight? I knew you could do it if you had the incentive!"

"Umm...okay. Thanks." Monica got up and picked up the car keys. She was starting to feel dizzy again (_'Why the heck is this happening all of the sudden?_') and needed to get moving. Once she saw Chandler, she was sure they'd get something to eat, and that would be her meal for the day. "Are you ready?"

Rachel rose, the chair legs riding across faded linoleum as it scraped slowly away at the surface. "You bet. God, I feel so much better after eating." They headed towards the car and Rachel continued rambling. "You act like I shouldn't be happy for you, Mon, but I am. I should've known, you know? I mean, I did. On another level. I know my best friend."

Monica smiled and eased onto the highway. "You probably know me better than I know myself."

Though when she considered her own words, Monica knew that there were parts of herself that she hid far beneath the surface, secrets that would kill her if they got out.

OOOOO

A little girl with hair softer than rose petals sits by the ocean's edge. As waves crash against the shore, she bathes in the moonlight's incandescent glow.

She finds a flower and picks it up. Her blue eyes open wide as she realizes that it is a rose.

_What is a rose doing by the ocean_, she wonders. _What is a rose doing here?_

She moves the sand around her, building a makeshift fort for her and her new friend, the rose. She knows when morning comes, it shall wilt in the burning sunlight, drying into shards of cracked feathers by daybreak.

Soon, daylight begins to burn and with it comes the rains, a paradoxical orchestra of pattering footsteps. The rain meets the sand and the rose wilts, melting into nothingness.

One petal remains and the little girls tears make it dry. She scoops up the remnants in the palm of her chubby hand and it is then that she knows:

All good things must come to an end.

_**Eh, that last part was a little confusing. I was going for the whole 'deeper meaning'...hope everyone understood. :)**_

_**Please leave me a review!**_

_**Just by the way, I'm really looking forward to writing some upcoming chapters for this fic. If it seems like I'm updating this one or paying more attention to it than my other ones, I'm sorry. I just can relate to this one more right now. Not because I have an eating disorder, but because I'm a teenager and I can relate to a lot of other things. :) This isn't just an eating disorder story...I hope. :)**_

_**Anyway, I hope everyone has a great day, weekend, spring break, or whatever! ;)**_

_**Mel**_

**_Also, it's not letting me do my regular page break thingy...grr...So just to let everyone know, that part about the little girl is NOT in the same scene as Monica and Rachel driving down the highway, okay? lol. Just in case it doesn't work, there were supposed to be "" in between it. :) Without the quotes, of course. _**

**_All right. lol. That should (hopefully) do it. :) The "OOOO" is now my page break. :)_**


	11. For the first time

**_Hey everyone, sorry for not updating in like a month. lol. FirstI was in Vegas, then came testing, then I was sick, then I forgot (lol), now I'm really sick...again._**

**_I'll forget the excuses, though, because this is really like three chapters in one. This entire week I've been periodically coming over to my computer when I wasn't feeling that bad and typing. So if it's bad, blame it on the fact that I'm (still) highly overmedicated. lol. _**

**_Thank you for putting up with me. lol. _**

**_Disclaimer: No. Not. Mine. Right. :)_**

The night hummed softly, the trees waltzing in the breeze to a smooth dance in the wind. Bronzed shadows painted across the stretch of horizon distinguished between what was real and what was make-believe. Dim lights shone into the room as Monica sighed, recalling the events that took place mere hours before.  
----

Understandably, it had all began when they arrived. True to their word, Monica and Rachel pulled into campus about an hour after the phone call. Pulling into a rare parking spot, Monica spotted Julie walking past their car.

Nearly calling out to her, Monica held her breath. 'Does she even know who I am?' She remembered the party a while back, the party that Ross still didn't know she knew he was at. _'God, that's confusing,'_ she laughed.

"What are you laughing at?" Rachel yawned, stretching from her uncomfortable position on the seat.

"Oh, nothing." Monica blushed.

"C'mon!" Rachel sat up straighter and grinned at Monica.

"Rach, why are you grinning like that?" Monica pulled into the parking space and looked over at her friend.

"Like what?" The grin widened.

"Like a maniac," Monica shook her head and laughed.

"She's a maniac, maniac on the dance floor!"

"Are you kidding me?"

Rachel doubled over laughing. "It's about Chandler! I know it is!"

Glancing warily over her shoulder, Monica almost expected Chandler to pop out of no where and go, "What's about me?" Picturing his head flying out from under the car like an ill-fated torpedo, another laugh slipped from her lips.

"It _is_!" Rachel's eyes brightened as she delicately nursed what was left of her diet Sprite. "I knew it, Mon. You don't hide things well, you know."

_'Ha, if only she knew.'_

"It's okay, I'm not going to tell him anything."

"I didn't think you were going to, Rach." Pressing her hand against her growling stomach, Monica took a deep breath. "And, since you know that I like Chandler...maybe you could, well, give us some time on our own or something while we're here."

Rachel shrugged. "Sure."

"But that might entail you spending time...with Ross." She bit her bottom lip, tearing quietly away at the dry pattern.

"Oh." Rachel rested her eyes on the hood of a beat up Chevy and sighed heavily. "Yeah."

"Is that...okay?"

"Yeah. It'll be fine." Shaking wisps of her hair from her eyes, Rachel plastered a smile on her face. "I know how much you like Chandler. And besides, Ross isn't that bad."

"Oh, thank you so much!" Monica flung her arms across the seats and proceeded to nearly choke Rachel with her gratitude.

"You're welcome," laughed Rachel. "But can we go in now?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

Leaving the confines of the station wagon, Monica swung her duffle bag over her shoulder and walked along the black pavement. Her shadow, stretched out longer than Rachel's, seemed to possess so much grace and dignity.

As she passed a large lake encircled by dozens of willow trees, Monica concentrated on her surroundings. Hundreds of college students milled around aimlessly, free of work on the Saturday mid-morning. Bathed in rows of glistening sunlight, the whole scene looked rather picturesque and movie-like to Monica.

After walking across much of the common grounds, the girls finally reached the building where Chandler and Ross lived.

When they were in front of Ross and Chandler's room, Rachel retreated.

Monica dropped her duffel to the ground and turned around to look at Rachel. "Rach, what are you doing?"

"Nothing," she shook her head and squinted at the dim fluorescent lighting. "Nothing."

Raising her eyebrows, Monica knocked on the door nonetheless. 'She can be so shifty sometimes...but then again, I'm not Miss Straightforward, so...'

From behind the door, Monica heard shuffling.

And then he appeared. "Hey!" His grin broadened and Monica could feel her face rush beet red.

_'Stay calm, stay calm...just breathe.'_ Monica smiled and she could feel her eyes bugging out of her head. _'Oh my God, you look like a freaking blow fish, just breathe!'_

"Hi!" Monica shouted, and, forgetting all plans to hold her cool, threw her arms around him.

_'Crap. Well, there goes my staying calm idea.'_

Rachel felt her jaw scrape the floor, practically dusting the worn blue carpeting. It was so unlike Monica to just put herself out there. Emotionally, Monica had always seemed to her like a closed book, an enigma. Typically, if you wanted to know anything that she was feeling- really feeling- you had to pry until your teeth bled.

Monica had always been the type of person that loved everyone else and delighted in hearing their stories. Always cheerful (or so she led them to believe), Monica escaped her own personal woes by focusing on neutral topics such as food and the weather.

Her heart warming, Rachel soaked in the scene carefully: Her best friend finally letting her true character show in front of someone other than Rachel herself.

Tears began to form, first in Rachel's throat and then behind the pale blue of her eyes. Though she didn't let them seep through, the moment never left Rachel's heart.

Finally, Monica found someone to like, someone to focus her attention on instead of her own latent insecurities.

From the way Chandler hugged her back, first surprised at her unusual emotion and then engulfing her with a smile on his face, Rachel believed that he might like her, too.

As Ross appeared from behind the door, Rachel was reminded of the fact that constantly tugged at the back of her mind. Pushing it away, she followed Chandler and Monica inside the cramped dorm room.

"Rach!" Monica whispered, lingering for another moment in the hall.

"Hmm?"

"Did you see that?"

"Yeah. You guys are really cute."

Monica squealed underneath her breath. "Really? Was he smiling or anything as I hugged him?" Not even waiting for an answer, Monica launched into another revelation. "And you know what? I didn't even think about it, hugging him. I just...did. And it felt good."

Hearing Ross and Chandler's calls beckon them inside, Monica followed, feeling lighter than air.

Merely shaking her head in a pleased awe at her friend's new persona, Rachel was struck by the image of Monica smiling broadly, her rosy skin beaming brightly in the artificially darkened building.

Never before had she looked so radiant, so happy, so unlike the image Rachel perceived herself to give off.

So beautiful.  
----

"...and this is the place we come to get coffee all the time," Chandler finished.

Monica nodded, surveying the quaintly vintage-looking cafe. "It's cute."

"Great food, too. Did you guys eat lunch?" Chandler looked over at Rachel who was toying with her split ends.

"I did," Rachel spoke up. "But Monica didn't."

"Really?" Ross asked sarcastically.

"Shut up, freak." Monica rolled her eyes at Ross, who had insisted at coming along with her and Chandler everywhere because of the way he saw Chandler looking at Monica.

As Monica gently smoothed the table cloth across the length of a small booth, Chandler was struck with just how much weight she had lost.

Not that he based his affections (_'I'm having affections now?'_) for her off her weight, but the pounds seemed to be sliding off of her.

While Ross explained the workings of campus life to a dubious Rachel and Monica, Chandler pondered some thoughts that had been permeating his brain.

_'What is this here, what's going on? I wonder if Monica and Rachel really came here just to visit or whatever. For someone so eager to explore campus life, Monica sure seems uninterested.'_

As in all great struggles between will and conscience, another part of Chandler's mind seemed to take control in a dictator-like fashion.

_'Wake up, you jackass! She didn't come here to see the campus. No, she came here to see you. Why else would she willingly come out here to see the school where her brother is, nonetheless her brother himself? She likes you. She likes you in ways other girls have repulsed you, so you better not mess this up._

_'But do I even like her? I mean, I do like her as a friend for sure. Nobody else has actually come to visit me, not even my parents! But Monica...she did. I just...it's Ross's little sister. Ross's chunky little sister.'_

Looking back over at Monica, Chandler noticed something other than the few extra pounds she carried. Her smile. ----

There she was. The most beautiful girl he had ever seen. The way her hair floated aimlessly about her shoulders, the shape in which her clothing molded to her body.

Rachel.

Her name sounded so sweet to Ross, though he was only whispering in a barely audible tone.

"Hmm?" She whipped around, dangling her purse carelessly off her smooth arm.

His face melting a deep crimson (a trait he and Monica shared), Ross turned his back to her and pretended to be immensely interested in the chalk-coated menu.

"Ross, did you just say my name?"

"Oh, right. Sure."

"Did you...want something?"

"Uh..."

Monica glared at him, mentally urging Ross to ask Rachel to go do something so she and Chandler could be alone.

Lucky for Monica, Rachel took the initiative. "Ross, will you show me around town?"

"Uh, alone?"

"Well, the two of us."

Tiny beads of sweat trickled down his hairline. "Yeah, sure."

Monica knew her friend could be somewhat brazen, yet she never expected Rachel to willingly go off with Ross.

Sometimes, she was learning, the people that you think you know the best are often completely different than you thought that they once were.  
----

"So, hey, I guess it's just the two of us then?" Chandler smiled at Monica as she blushed.

"Apparently."

"Well, should we get something to eat? Rachel said you didn't eat anything earlier."

"Nah. I'm not hungry." As with all awkward moments, Monica's stomach chose that exact moment to roar, a painstaking cry for a morsel of food.

"Right. That's why your stomach just screamed at the entire coffee shop. C'mon. I know this great little pasta place not too far away. They have the best food."

Reluctantly, she gave in. "Yeah, all right."

_'If he sees me eat, he'll be disgusted! No one likes to watch a cow chomp on grass, and I'm not an exception. I'll have to take it easy, maybe a salad or a lemon slice. Maybe.'_

Out the door she walked, Chandler following in her demure footsteps.

Did she come to see the college?

No.

Was she endearingly self-depreciating and insecure, much like himself?

Yes.

Was she perhaps the best thing that ever happened to him?

Chandler shook his head, rays of sunlight tickling his nose.

Maybe.  
----

"Are you sure you want just a salad?" Chandler fiddled with his menu, stealing periodic glances at Monica.

"Yeah, I'm really just not that hungry."

"Really? Because the food here is good, I promise. I wouldn't subject you to a place that served Chef Boyardee or anything," he grinned, teeth glinting in the high afternoon sunlight.

"Well, I wouldn't have minded, anyway. I happen to like the Chef," laughed Monica.

"Nothing against the Chef or anything, but I thought you would rather eat here."

"It's very nice."

Plushy chairs and dim lighting added to the very eclectic and chic air of the restaurant. With its combined hippie and modern feel, it made it a haven for the college students with taste.

"Yeah, I like it."

An awkward silence floated through the air, weaving in a snake-like fashion through the beaded picture frames and the apple-scented candles.

Reaching across the table for a napkin, Monica accidentally knocked over her ice-water, spilling it all over Chandler.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" She blushed, pulling out several more napkins out of the holder. Rushing over to Chandler to help mop up the sopping mess, Monica frantically apologized.

"Hey, it's fine. I don't care, really." Chandler got up, and mistakenly sloshed his water all over Monica.

She took one long look at him and they both burst into a fit of laughter.

"I-I-I'm sor-"

"No you're not!" She screeched, chucking an ice cube at his head.

Feigning anger, Chandler buried his eyes under his hair. Monica's heart dropped because she didn't expect this of him. About to apologize, Monica felt a straw wrapper hit her square on her forehead.

Grinning, Chandler brushed the hair from his eyes. "You're right. I'm not."

"All right, that's it!" Reaching up on the table, Monica plucked a handful of napkins, but not without waving the bunch through a lit candle. Seeing that the napkins were on fire, Monica screamed in horror.

"Oh my God! Chandler!" She searched his eyes, the sturdy length of his jaw, the chiseled point of his nose...she was getting lost in his face with a pile of burning napkins in her hand!

Rushing to his feet, Chandler reached over to the nearest table and snatched their waters. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Sort of an emergency." Choking back laughter, he tossed the glasses of water all over Monica and the napkins, putting the fire out.

Peering through her soaked hair, Monica smiled. "Well, thanks."

"Anytime," he laughed, looking around hurriedly. Chandler reached down and pulled her up from the ground. "But we have to get out of here. Like now." He tossed a twenty on the table, handed the empty glasses back to the dumbfounded couple, and grabbing her hand, they ran.

Panting through laughter, the two collapsed on the grass by the lake after putting quite a bit of distance between them and the restaurant.

"I think it's safe to say that you can never go back there again," breathed Monica.

"Ya think?" Chandler lay on his back, squinting in the sunlight. "And neither can you for that matter."

"If I ever come back here, that is," she joked.

"You'll be back."

Propping herself up on her elbows, Monica questioned him in jest. "And what makes you so sure of that?"

"Eh, I just know."

"Well, I hope you're right."

They both sprawled out, fanning themselves in the sunlight.

"You know what I just realized?" Monica asked.

"That you realized something?"

"Very funny," she poked him in the side with a stick. "That one time at, uh, Joey's party when we were talking on the deck, you went down to lay in the grass. And you asked me when the last time I did that was."

He smiled. _'God, she has a good memory.'_

"Anyway, I was just thinking if you were to ask me when the last time I just laid down in the grass was now, I'd have an answer," Monica smiled sweetly.

Chandler could feel his palms sweating. Was she flirting with him?

"What would your answer be?"

She stared into the never-ending sky, pondering the double-meaning behind his question. Pretending to think about it for a great deal of time, she sighed. "I think it would be a yes"  
----

"And this is the School of Fine Arts over here," Ross gestured towards a large brick building towering above them.

Yawning, Rachel shielded her eyes from the now-setting sun. It was nearly seven-thirty and she was starved.

"So, if we were to walk from Fine Arts over to the Theatre, it would probably take about five minutes, but-"

"Ross, cut the crap." She looked at him very seriously, sending a chill down his spine. "No one else is here. You don't have to talk to me like I'm a stranger or something." As she headed over to a nearby bench, he followed.

"What do you mean?" He sat down beside her.

"I think you know," she whispered softly, searching his deep brown eyes.

"Uh-what?" Frantically, he searched the grounds with his eyes, combing the premises for someone he knew.

"Relax, no one else is here, I swear."

"All right," He loosened the grip on the back of the bench and relaxed his entire body.

"I think you know why I suggested we go off alone today." The wind blew through her hair, fanning the satin sun-drenched strands around her head. She sighed.

"But could you make it more obvious? I mean, Chandler and Monica were bound to notice something was up. You would never be willing to spend time with me, they think."

"Trust me, Ross. They're clueless."

"Nice way for you to describe my sister and best friend."

"You know what I mean. And would you rather them know?"

"I think you need to ask yourself that."

"That's why I needed to get you alone." She took a deep breath, knowing that her life would change after this conversation. As the sun began to set, she exhaled deeply. "We need to talk."  
----

"Do you realize that we've been laying here for a very long time?"

A smile crept up from behind Monica's ears. "I was about to say the same thing. I think I may have fallen asleep for awhile there, though."

"You did. You snore." Chandler put a hand over his mouth to suppress laughter.

"I do not!"

"I hate to break it to you, but yeah, you do." He nodded solemnly, as to signify the seriousness of the situation.

"I've never snored a day in my life!"

"Consider this a first, then." He was so comfortable with her all the time, nothing felt forced or fake. _'This doesn't happen all that often.'_

"I promise you, I don't snore," she reiterated.

"Well, it was a light snore, a feminine snore."

Finally, she gave in. "Fine. This is just a day of firsts, then! My first time running from a restaurant, my first time nearly dying on the highway, my first time discovering that I do snore."

_'She is really cute, you know. Six months ago, I could never imagine myself liking a girl like her. But now...I don't know. Everything seems to be changing. And we get along really well.'_ Chandler pondered his thoughts.

Night was falling over campus as the sun melted sleepily into fading horizon. The newly risen moon began to glow over the lake, crickets eliciting chirps from their hiding places beneath the haven of grass.

"That's another first, my first time coming to this campus. It's so pretty out here, almost like something out of a romance movie. Dusk," she sighed, not even realizing that she was thinking out loud. "In the movie, this is when the heroine would get kissed."

"Hmm?" Chandler propped himself up on his elbows.

"Oh my God." Tears of humiliation stung her eyes as she realized she had spoken out loud. "No, I didn't mean it like that. I saw this movie the other day, and it was on a campus like this and I was just remembering-"

Not even knowing what he was going to do, Chandler leaned over and kissed her. He moved in gently at first, smoothing the hair out of her eyes and cupping her chin in his hands. Softly, he moved in closer, molding his body into hers and supporting her head with his hands.

For several minutes, they lay bathed in the moonlight, a crescent silhouette pressed against the canvas of grass. In the darkness, Monica was glad he couldn't see her face, red and beaming or her body, large and heaving. She'd heard stories about incredible first kisses, but never dreamed she'd actually experience one.

"Wow," she breathed. "I didn't expect you to do...that."

"Was it...bad?" He cringed. Never the spontaneous one, Chandler completely abandoned his typical character and decided to seize the moment.

Answering his question, Monica did something completely unlike herself and reached over, kissing him for her perfect, second kiss.  
----

_**Thanks for reading! I better go because the screen is starting to look all blurry again. lol. Can't be good. **_

_**Leave me a review if you feel like doing so, please. :) I know it ended happy there, but I'm not that nice. lol. There's still a lot to resolve. hehe. **_

_**Thanks!**_

_**Mel**_


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